Along Came a Rogue
by DracoAura
Summary: Both Autobots and Decepticons are taken off-guard when an unsettlingly silver-opticed rogue appears with a nearly forgotten past. Old wounds are opened, and new wounds are made as the crimson femme battles to find her place among the ranks. A natural-born warrior, she doesn't make things easy for either side. Which faction does she align her loyalty? Does she remain loyal at all?
1. Chapter 1

"Along Came a Rogue" is my fanfiction for Transformers. Now, while I imagine this in the Transformers Prime art style and will be incorporating major themes from the show, I will also be pulling in elements from other entities of the Transformers franchise. Obviously, Transformers, the characters, and places belong to Hasbro Toy Company. Original characters are not meant to represent any real person(s) past or present. My story is for fanfiction purposes only, not intended to be monetized.

There are a few things I would like to take the time to note. This fanfic actually started as a roleplay between MaiaNightmareMoon (on DeviantArt) and I. My storyline is more of a spin-off from that roleplay. However, I would like to give her credit for helping me develop the beginning of this story and my original characters. Some of what will be wouldn't happen if it wasn't for her!

Therefore, a couple of the characters that will appear were either helped created by MaiaNightmareMoon (on DeviantArt). Or they belong to her, and she's been gracious enough to let me reference them. The names of such characters are as follows: Kryschina, Nyx, Omne, Lumena, Umbra, and Razatamok. I'm not sure which ones will end up making an appearance, but if there are some that are included in the story but not here, I will be sure to notate, so my friend can get the credit she deserves. Again, this wouldn't exist if it wasn't for her!

* * *

 ** _Before the Great War…._**

This was not Iacon; this was much worse.

The two low lives pushed the poor femme further along. Further into Kaon. Laughing as they did so.

Kryschina's crystal blue optics were wide. She grunted when they shoved her again, her restraining chains clinking in response. She should have listened to the others. Never should have wandered outside the city-state. But her curious naivety had gotten the best of her.

One of the ruffians planted a well-placed kick in her lower back. Sneered.

Crying out, she crashed to the ground. Her faceplate had been gouged. She could feel the energon slowly seeping out. Blinking away lubricant, she put tapering fingers against her faceplate. Stared at the bright blue liquid.

The second kidnapper—the dark blue one—laughed. "First time you've ever had your precious energon spilled, isn't it, princess? What do you think now, up-worldan?"

Kryschina blinked again. "What…I-I have nothing to offer you."

They both laughed as the first one gruffly pulled her to her feet by the chains. Holding her close to his slate gray chassis. Whispering into her audio receptors. "There is plenty you have to offer. It's not every day we get femmes down here. The higher castes keep your kind all to themselves."

Her Spark pulsated harder. No bot would ever touch her this way in Iacon. At least, not so publicly.

"I really like your white paint. The way it shimmers pink in the light. It's so," his hand slid around her slender, metal waist, "fetching."

The second low life shifted uneasily, his uncared for joints grinding in the process. His optics flitted about. "Come on. We need to return to Clench before he decides to rip us apart or throw us in the one of the smelters."

The initial ruffian's optics flickered over to his partner. "True." He held the femme against him for a nanocycle longer before shoving her forward. "Move."

Kryschina complied, Spark pounding against her chest plate and her internal temperature rising with concern, fear. What would become of her? She didn't even know what the lower castes did down here. What occupied their time?

Well, there were the rumors….

None of which she knew well enough to recall in this strenuous time.

Kaon was three times the size of Iacon, but it wasn't nearly as cheery. There was nothing happy about this place. The lower city-state was dark, clouded, and raw. Refreshing whites and blues were not found here. The colors had been replaced with black and orange. Black from incessant smog. Orange from the numerous raging fires that continuously melted metal.

Deeper into Kaon only revealed how cramped the city-state actually was. Buildings atop buildings atop structures. The streets were narrower. The population denser. The factories and manufacturing plants billowing black smoke as miners fed material into beasts of smelters.

The more intense smell of the burning metal made her gut wrench, and she involuntarily placed a hand over her midsection.

Lower caste members who flooded the streets stopped to watch the pretty, flawless femme be paraded by. Most called out to her, made inappropriate remarks.

Kryschina did her best to stay focused on the road, but her optics wandered anyway. She gasped at the condition these bots were in.

None of them had brilliantly-colored paint. And, unless they were a younger generation, they were missing limbs, armor, optics. Dried energon and oil covered them.

The femme let off an exclamation, startled by a crazed mech planting himself in front of her.

The bot had an optic dangling from its socket, and three of his four arms were missing. Only his lower right remained attached. His vocal processor crackled and popped. "You have fresh energon." He reached for the white foreigner.

Her dark blue captor smashed him off to the side with a large hammer. "Back it up, Blackguard. This one is for the pits. I suggest you remember the last time you ran into Clench. He won't be merciful this time." Letting the hammer fall, he dragged it behind him as he led the trio. Sparks darted off the metal street from the friction. He dared anybot else to approach.

Kryschina kept her helm lowered. Crystal blue optics focusing on the rough, pitted road. She had no desire to view more of Kaon or its inhabitants. Not because they repulsed her. Because they saddened her. She thought all of Cybertron was like Iacon. It broke her Spark that it wasn't the same.

Her kidnappers violently shoved her into an area labeled "The Pits" with an arrow pointing down. And they pushed her down. Down below the ground level of Kaon.

She stumbled a couple steps, tripping on her chains and clutching the wet wall for support as she did her best not to tumble down what seemed to be an endless staircase. She glanced over her shoulder.

A giant door ground shut. Sealing away all outside light.

Her optics adjusted to the little light. Sections of the walls seemed to glow, and she wondered if there were channels of molten metal on the other side. The heat definitely indicated it, as well.

The pair of Clench's scouts kept her moving forward, down the broken stairs. Down a dim corridor.

Shivers coursed through her systems. Every forced step brought her closer to death. She may have convinced herself she wasn't afraid of death, but how she would join the AllSpark petrified her.

Deeper underground, the trio marched. Hung a right. A pair of doors slid open to a massive chamber filled with holding cells and restraints.

Kryschina's optics could not widen anymore as she took in the sights of the room.

The lowest members of Cybertronian classes were even more mangled than the ones above. Some sat on the floor, others stood. The rest were in the cages. Many did their best holding their circuitry inside themselves. Regardless of their condition, all helms swiveled to view the femme. Sorrow in their optics.

"Comin' though!" a brute yelled, waving his arm. He and another rolled in a flat cart directly across from the newcomer and her kidnappers.

The wheeled platform carried what was left of what appeared to be a reasonably-sized mech. Half of an arm stuck above the pile of destroyed body parts. Twitching uncontrollably.

Her mini-parade halted, allowing the cart to pass. She snapped her helm away when she caught a glimpse of half a Spark. By Primus, why did she have to accept that commission outside the safety of Iacon?

Murmurs started among the prisoners.

"He had a good shot."

"Are you kidding? Megatronus is undefeated."

Several agreements.

"I heard he gives parts to the crowd."

"No one survives a single round with Megatronus."

One of the miners suddenly sprang up from his place on the floor. Bolted for the exit. "I'm not going in! They can't send me in!" He pounded on the doors leading to the passageway. "Primus, save me!"

A large, four armed bot emerged from the same place as the cart. "Primus save you, indeed." All shrunk away as he strode by. He went straight for the helpless bot. Shoved a hand through the chest plate and ripped out the Spark.

Silence fell as the body crumpled.

The glossy black behemoth turned around, tossing aside the Spark. "Fresh energon, boys." Ignored the mass scramble of those not in chains. Approached the trio. "Lady bot goes in next."

The two handlers backed away. "Yes, Ringmaster." They knew the pecking order. Authority began with the four-armed bot.

Kryschina's Spark pulsed harder as Ringmaster grabbed her neck and all but dragged her along.

The pristine mech motioned to the bot stationed at the arena door. "Inform the crowd of Megatronus's new opponent. Clench and I are about to make huge profits." Then he leaned next to the femme's audio receptors. "Never had a lady bot before."

Her optics closed momentarily. How did she go from living in nice, quiet life to this repulsive place? Her internals still wrenched from seeing how eager those bots were to consume another's energon. Did life have no meaning here? No value? Was civilization all for naught?

Attempting to steady herself, she reopened her optics. Though it didn't matter. This short hallway possessed even less light than the first. She thought she heard a distant roar. Before she could focus on it, a shower of sparks raining from the ceiling made her jump.

Ringmaster laughed. "You have no idea how rich you're about to make us."

The roar formed into a chant.

Every piece of her trembled. Threatened to shut down on her. She wished her Spark would just give out now. By the Primes, what had she done to deserve this?

The door before them retracted upwards.

Kryschina shielded her optics at the piercing light flooding the dark tunnel. Stumbled into the ring.

Thousands of the lowest caste were on their feet. Their deafening clamor now clear. "Meg-a-tron-us! Meg-a-tron-us! Meg-a-tron-us!"

Her optics immediately locked onto the pile of rusting bodies in the middle of the arena. Fluids of all kinds perpetually dripped down the mound. Scanned up the pedestal of dismemberment.

On the very top stood a proud gladiator, holding high the helm of his previous opponent.

The one who had been wheeled in on the junk cart.

Kryschina's joints couldn't hold her weight any longer, and she fell to the spoiled ring ground. This was the end. This was how she returned unto the AllSpark. A brutal death for entertainment and riches.

She instantly froze.

The undefeated champion turned his piercing red gaze upon her.


	2. Chapter 2

Megatronus stared at the trembling femme below him. This was what Clench's two slag-crawlers brought him? He fought the urge to look at the organizer of the Pits behind him, who was always in his preferred seat so he could see every part of the ring. Rose a metal brow. Was this really the next bot he was supposed to destroy? He had never fought a femme before, and he didn't feel right starting now.

 _But Clench knew best._

A snarl formed, and the gladiator was thankful his back was to the egotistical maniac. But Megatronus knew. Knew the femme was only brought in for profits. Brought in only to keep the Shanix moving. Primus knew that resources had been decreasing rapidly, especially the past decacycles. The miners worked harder with fewer compensations. Hardly any medics existed in Kaon anymore; everything was in shambles. The only way bots could escape their dreary existence were these arranged fights.

Iacon, and the city-states like it, demanded more and more while Cybertron produced less and less.

There were rumors Primus was dying. While the rumors remained small said in hushed tones, it was enough to put many bots into a panic. Even though nobot talked about it aloud. If Primus died, Cybertron died. And if Cybertron died, well, nobot knew what would happen. One theory was that the Quentessons would enslave the Cybertronians again. Or wipe them out completely.

Yet, Megatronus couldn't concern himself with such matters. He was no politician. Nor did he want to be. All he could worry about were the matches. Though his pay cut was low, he did make profits. He kept a minimal amount of Shanix for himself, keeping only what he needed to survive. The rest he scattered among his people.

His people.

The femme clearly was not one of his kind. Another reason he knew they kidnapped her. She was most likely from Iacon itself.

Cybertron's illustrious capital full of hopes and dreams. And crooked laws made by the High Council.

If Clench's goons had been caught, they most likely would've been beheaded. Or kept and tortured for inside information regarding the lowest of Kaon. There had been a fair share of his brothers that had come back from imprisonment in Iacon. Their processors in shambles due to the "righteous" punishment and interrogation. He shook his helm.

It did not go unnoticed by him that the crowd had grown silent. They awaited his next move. They awaited the show.

The champion leaped off his trophy pile. Landed on the ground before Ringmaster and the femme. Hard enough to make the arena shudder. Rose to his full height and set his shoulders.

All the makeshift lights reflected off his silver armor, making the subtle metallics dance. Making it appear as if he moved even while standing still. Part of the reason the many rumors whispered he possessed unnatural abilities. He stood taller than the glossy black mech, and he stared the shorter bot down.

Ringmaster shoved the femme forward with his bottom two arms while folding his top pair. "I bring you your next opponent. Are you not satisfied?"

Megatronus disposed of the severed head by tossing it into the crowd.

There was a small cheer before it quieted once again.

He flicked the energon off his fingers. Turned his back on the four-armed mech. His optics traveled up to Clench, who waited expectantly. Then he searched the assembled. Securing his stance, he clasped hands behind his back. His clear, strong voice echoed out. "You expect me to fight an unarmed opponent?"

Ringmaster shifted his weight. "Why does it matter? She's a challenger. Fight her."

This elicited a rumbling chuckle. Megatronus knew he could sway the spectators. He could say anything, and they would follow him. His red optics found the white femme. There was no reason to fight her. She had done nothing to challenge him.

The silver mech turned the spectators and held out open arms. "Brothers, listen to me. You have been with me since my beginning. And while my fights have grown with the passing cycles, my opponents have always been the same. They have always been the lowest, even amongst us."

Murmurs flooded the stillness.

His long gait carried him around the ring. "We've never had a member of the higher castes, have we?"

A simultaneous "no." Many moved to the edges of their seats. Geared for an impending battle.

But Megatronus remained talking. "And there is a good reason for it. Our lives are scrap, but it is not the individuals of the castes who decide our fate. It's the High Council. We fight those pretentious bots best by persisting, by continuing with our lives the ways we always have."

Agreements.

He motioned toward the femme. "Behold her fear. Cast your optics on her unwillingness to look upon us. It is not from haughtiness. It's from shame. She has no idea how desolate things are down here. She was taught otherwise. That is the High Council's doing, not her own."

Clench frowned when his prized fighter locked optics with him.

"There is no need to fight her. She hasn't done anything wrong against us. A true warrior only takes on those who deserve death. Those are the ones I slay here. A true warrior stands by his convictions. And a true warrior does not attack an unarmed adversary. I will not fight this femme."

A moment of silence passed as the gladiator's words sunk in. Then the crowd erupted in applause.

The organizer of the Pits rose from his treasured seat. Clearly taller than Megatronus. The spectators around him shied away. There were few times when Clench entered the ring. When he had, he had proved himself worse than his prized fighter.

No bot knew what would happen if both Clench and Megatronus dueled.

But the midnight blue goliath of a mech didn't make any other moves. Not yet.

Megatronus moved to the femme, keeping tabs on all who watched him. Then he bent at the waist and held out a hand. "What is your name?"

The white bot lifted her helm. Searched the arena, the crowd, and Ringmaster. Her innocent stare landed on the towering champion. She couldn't hold his optics, so she focused on the hand in front of her that was the size of her helm. At the digits tapering to sharp points.

"Krys-Kryschina." She didn't think Megatronus wanted to hurt her. His hand seemed like an offer. An offer at survival. With trembling internals, she placed her dainty hand in his. Pleasantly surprised at the gentleness he used to help her up.

Here she was, in an underground energon bath ring, and the greatest of all its fighters treated her with the tenderness of Orion Pax. She felt incredibly small next to the gladiator. Not only in size but also in mindset. She knew hardly anything about this lowest castes of Kaon.

Megatronus suddenly frowned, his metal brows furrowing, and it caused fear to course through her systems again. Was his initial kindness a trick? Part of a strategy? Was the speech just for show? Something to keep the audience interested?

Kryschina backed away. Only to have her small frame bump against Ringmaster, who had stepped closer.

The four-armed mech instantly seized her with his lower two arms, taking a visual cue from Clench. He quieted the still-cheering crowd with his upper arms. Though, it took him longer to cease the noise than the undefeated champion.

His voice wasn't as projected as Megatronus's. "My friends, listen to me. What you and our mighty Megatronus don't understand is this femme _is_ one of the reason why we're here. She is a teacher up there. One revered for training botlings on how mighty their caste is, how terrible we are. How we're nothing but scrap ready for smelting."

"No," the femme cried, although she wondered how he learned of her profession. "That's not true."

"Lies!" Ringmaster smacked her off to the side. With the amount of force that he normally saved for misbehaving miners.

Kryschina's light chassis tumbled across the ring floor. She weakly lifted her helm. Felt energon leaking from her mouth. She didn't need to look at it to know for sure.

The ebony bot kept his stare on Megatronus as he threw a whip chain to the femme. He squared up to the champion. "There. Now she's not defenseless. Show her. Teach her a lesson. Prove to this up-worldan what it's like to be forced to survive."

Megatronus snarled. Daring the bot to step closer.

He continued, despite the warning. "Everything has been given to her. Take it away. She's got a weapon. Don't you think if she was allowed free, she would put her tiny voice in to have our way of life demolished?"

The crowd's chatter filled the sudden silence. They debated amongst themselves as to who was right.

Kryschina stared at the weapon that gleamed in front of her. She had never picked up a weapon before, much less used one. Did they really expect her to fight? Or was the fact she couldn't fight the whole reason for her being here?

"Look at her," Ringmaster roared. "A pristine example of how the upper caste is favored. She will never starve of energon. Rust will never touch her frame. A scratch will never blemish her finish. Give this teacher a lesson." He pointed to her with his two right arms. "Show her."

Megatronus studied the femme for a few nanocycles. Slowly trained his optics back on the provoking mech in front of him that stood a little too close for his comfort.

Oh, he would show her, alright.


	3. Chapter 3

Kryschina's optics adjusted in and out of focus as she continued staring at the weapon. There was no way on Cybertron that she could pick it up and fight. Her skills were in the arts and the arts only. She had never been taught anything other than what she needed to know for her designated profession.

Realization settled in her components. Was her caste really not so different from this one? As a botling, she was chosen for a career path. As her age increased, she learned only about the arts and how it affected other bots. She was never allowed to venture to another choice. Her life had been set before her, just as these miners had their lives dictated for them.

Her audio receptors tuned. The crowd began their cheer once again. They enjoyed seeing her tossed around like a piece of worthless scrap metal? Or did something else pique their interest? Her optics lifted.

The latter seemed to be correct.

Megatronus marched toward her with all the confidence of victorious warrior. He stopped in front of her. Picked up the whip chain. His crimson optics settled on her, expression hardening. Then he whirled around. Threw the weapon at Ringmaster's feet.

The spectators silenced. Many cast glances at the Pits' organizer.

Clench studied the two mechs. Though this fight wasn't the initial one he wanted, it was one that would still make profits. The massive gun stayed on his back for now. He returned to his seat. His midnight blue presence less intimidating.

Ringmaster scoffed. "What are you doing?"

Megatronus smirked. "Again, I refuse to fight an unarmed opponent."

The black bot stood in silence. Fully comprehending the gladiator's words. A slow smile overcame his faceplate. "Very well. But I have more sophisticated arms." His right two appendages merged to become a double-barreled cannon. His left two became blades.

The silver mech's right leg slowly swept behind him as he secured his stance protectively in front of the white femme.

Ringmaster sprinted forward, firing rounds and bringing his left arms around for an attack.

Megatronus waited until the last nanocycle to react. Because of the other's running, the blasts never hit him. Not that they were intended to. They were warning shots. He grabbed the two incoming blades, spinning in a circle and throwing his opponent to the other side of the ring.

The crowd roared, jumping to their feet.

Their prized fighter held out his arms. He wanted a loud audience.

Ringmaster shot up. Clearly not expecting to be thrown so soon. With a snarl, he rushed again.

Megatronus stepped aside. Pushed him onto his faceplate. Turned once more to the spectators.

The applause infuriated the glossy black mech. Rolling to his back, he fired at the gladiator's back.

He allowed the shot to graze the side of his helm. The throng loved a little drama. He slowly glanced over his shoulder armor. Pivoted and lifted the bot wrangler off the ground. Forced him to engage in hand-to-hand combat.

Ringmaster complied, thinking he could make ground here. He unleashed a fury of blows.

All of which were blocked.

Megatronus continued his defense. Not letting the other get a single hit on him. He parried the arms until he made a clear opening for himself. Landed a solid punch in the middle of his opponent's fascia.

The black mech stumbled back a few paces. Spitting energon out of his mouth.

Once again, the crowd cheered.

Ringmaster transformed his four arms into one giant laser cannon. Took a knee and fired in succession.

Megatronus rolled behind his pile of trophies. Audio receptors tracking every movement of the other. His optics flickered to the femme, who was crawling her way to safety behind a rusted piece of sheet metal protruding out of the ground.

"Come on out, gladiator," Ringmaster taunted. "Show me your true skills."

The silver mech gave a grin that made most cower. He knew exactly what he would do. Emerging from the other side of the mound of chassis, he rolled again, snatching the whip chain as he did so.

Kryschina had no intentions of witnessing a duel to the death. However, she couldn't help being captivated. She couldn't lie to herself. Captivated by the controlled, fluid movements of Megatronus. And she could tell he showed restraint.

He was such a large bot—one of the biggest she had ever laid optics on. Yet, he moved with such grace and ease. The chain weapon became an extension of his strong arms. His optics never left sight of his challenger.

The crowd had fallen silent with awe. They delighted in watching their favorite gladiator choreograph his own deadly dance around the ring.

The one who called himself Megatronus.

A name take from one of the original Thirteen.

Megatronus's expression held excitement, glory, as he commanded the whip chain with simple flicks of his wrist.

Ringmaster had all but given up at this point, retreating among the little cover he could find. His black paint had been peeled away almost everywhere. It didn't take long for him to realize the gladiator toyed with him.

Kryschina peeked around her shield, fingers grasping the jagged edge. The exalted champion was a living art form. Every step, dodge, every lock and unlock of his joints was premeditated. Every strike appeared effortless.

He was hard on himself, she saw. He had pounded, no doubt, near perfection in his frame. No, it was perfection. The only blow Ringmaster landed was the graze across the helm. But she wasn't so sure that Megatronus didn't want it.

Her crystal blue optics followed him around the arena. Not only was he a skilled fighter, he also clearly held leadership, intelligence. These were not supposed to be recognizable traits among the lowest caste. Who taught him these things? Was it possible he learned them for himself?

A loud commotion pulled her from her processor.

Megatronus had let off a chilling laugh. He threw out the whip chain, severing two of Ringmaster's arms simultaneously.

Kryschina's scream melted into the yelled praises.

The two detached limbs were strewn about the ring. Energon spewed everywhere.

But the warrior didn't stop there. With another aggressive move, he sliced off the other two arms.

Ringmaster sunk to his knees. The bright blue liquid flowed out of him. Speckled against his lack of finish. He was exhausted. Defeated. Lifting his helm when the other approached.

Megatronus chuckled. Picked up his opponent by his neck and held him at optic level. Voice carrying out once more. "There are a lot of bots you've wronged, Ringmaster."

The audience hollered and jeered. Booed at their distaste for the black mech.

The gladiator waited for them to die down on their own. "You're not well liked down here." Again, he waited for the crowd to settle. "I think it's about time you received your due punishment." Without further waiting, his sharp fingers punctured the other's chest armor.

Ringmaster's blue optics widened. Energon sputtering from his mouth.

Megatronus grinned. "May Primus have no mercy on your Spark." He ripped out his opponent's life source.

Kryschina scampered back behind the warped piece of metal. She closed her optics and covered her audio receptors. Begged Primus to let this all be the result of a very rough power down.

The combatant relished in the most thunderous applause he had ever received. Turned to Clench, who held no expression. He tossed the Spark to his employer. Watched it roll against the mighty mech's feet.

Thousands of megacycles felt like they passed to the femme as she tried everything in her power to block all of the sensory overload out. Until she felt rhythmic vibrations. Vibrations that approached in her direction.

They stopped.

Cautiously, she lifted her helm.

There stood the still undefeated Megatronus, splattered with energon. With the same offer as before. Red optics still fiery but burning with passion.

Initially, she gasped. The gladiator was capable of so much damage. Yet…yet, he fought for _her_. If he wanted to harm her, he would've killed her, not Ringmaster. His frowns were not directed in revulsion against her but what had been done to her. She realized his speech to the crowd was genuine. He was fighter with a noble—albeit lethal—Spark.

Her vocal processor locked up. Emotions finally tumbling out. Lubricant rolled down her metal fascia as she allowed him to help her to her feet. She was so terrified and grateful at the same time. Her frame trembling worse than it had before.

Without further processing, she clung to her new hero, burying her helm into him.

Clench watched the pair with rapt attention. Picked up the Spark at his feet. His red optics lifted to the ring floor once more. Though he wanted Megatronus to slay the pretty femme, his processor churned. Conceiving of a new plot that could ultimately result into more Shanix.

The audience praised the pair, supported them. If he played his cards right, he could keep his gladiator and the femme together. Make a pity case out of them. Pit them against the rest of the universe. Though Megatronus was undefeated, his new relationship with the femme would make a fine underdog story.

Silently, the organizer rose and left his seat in the arena. Passed on Ringmaster's Spark to his only bodyguard standing at the private entrance to the arena. "Please put this on display, Bludgeon."

The Cybertronian martial artist grinned.

Clench paused, looking over his shoulder. "I think we found our mighty Megatronus a new love."


	4. Chapter 4

The multitude of cheers from the audience slowly faded away. The fight was over. They would need to return to their quarters for power downs before the next work cycle began. Which would be soon. However, the majority stayed put. Anxious to see what would happen next.

Megatronus hesitated then placed a hand on the femme's back. He felt her fear and relief before he saw it. Her soft sobs gnawed at his Spark. And he wasn't quite sure how to react in a proper sensitive manner. This was a definitely a stranger platform than what he was used to being on.

He finally helped her straighten. While he already sensed Clench leave, he didn't want her to be in such a vulnerable state in front of so many spectators. He gently rubbed away a drop of lubricant off her helm. "Kryschina, correct?"

The white femme looked up. Nodded. She still had trouble finding her voice.

The gladiator offered a smile. "Come. Let's get you cleaned up. It's not proper for a bot of your stature to be seen in such a manner." Keeping her tiny hand in his, he led her out of the ring through his reserved entrance.

Kryschina let her gaze wander among the crowd. Their expressions had completely changed from when she first entered the ring. They looked upon her with admiration now. Versus the hatred they possessed earlier. Did Megatronus really hold that much sway over them?

Her optics flitted to her hand being held by his. Her fascia warmed. Then she made the mistake of looking at his faceplate. When he smiled at her again, she quickly averted her stare. There was no reason to make her faceplates pinker than they already shimmered.

Megatronus guided her through a tunnel that was lit better than the one the femme traveled to get to the Pits. Cool blue light flooded the corridor, paving the way to a more pleasant-looking door than any of the others. He granted her access to a spacious, pristine room.

The furnishings were simple. An operating table resided in the exact center. A data hub took up the left wall, and an advanced medical station took over the right.

Kryschina swallowed. Glanced at Megatronus. This room was unlike anything she had seen in Kaon. It almost resembled something she would find in Iacon.

The bot responsible for the immaculate chamber emerged from a shadowed doorway that was barely big enough for his boxy frame. Relaxed strides carried the deep purple mech over. His single red optic trained on the femme.

She involuntarily gasped, shying behind the warrior.

Megatronus chuckled. "This is Shockwave. He doesn't bite."

Shockwave clasped his hands behind his back. Monotone voice surfacing as he spoke to the femme. "Seeing as I have no oral cavity, it is highly illogical that I would bite. However, the odds of dissecting you are much greater."

The gladiator waved him away. "Don't let him scare you. While he is a scientist, he's also one of the few medics left in Kaon. What he means is you're more likely to get hurt and need his care."

Kryschina peered around the silver mech. Searched for his support before stepping out from behind him.

Shockwave advanced, examining her scrapes. "All wounds are surface. Buffering would be the correct course of action. I believe any remaining ailments lie in the realm of shock. I shall fetch some energon." Without any further acknowledgment from the others, his easy gait carried him back through the doorway.

Megatronus shook his helm. "He…grows on you eventually. But he's one of the few bots I trust." The volume of his voice increased. "The other can make himself known."

The femme searched the room in a frantic manner. There had been another hidden in this room the entire time? She hadn't picked up on any other signatures.

A slender, exotic mech revealed himself. His coloration was nearly identical to Shockwave's, except darker and with a slight hint of blue.

She was unsettled by the mirroring visor covering his face. Even more so than the scientist's sole optic. Her own optics traveled to Megatronus for direction.

The silver bot placed a hand on the new mech's shoulder armor. "This is Soundwave. I first encountered him in the ring. He's also known as the Silent Assassin. But he isn't just an expert in fighting. If you need any kind of information, he can get it for you."

Her hand went to her chest plate to address herself. And to calm her beating Spark. Though she felt like she needed to at least make an effort in meeting Megatronus's allies. Despite how much they freaked her out. "Nice to meet you, Soundwave. My name is Kryschina."

Soundwave neither spoke nor moved.

Kryschina glanced back to the gladiator.

Megatronus sighed. "You'll have to forgive him. He has never said a word since I've met him. I assume they put him through quite the ordeal when they dragged him to the Pits. I know he doesn't look like it, but he's the youngest fighter the Pits have seen."

She studied the silent mech. He was nothing more than a juvenile? Was that the reason for his visor? To hide his age from the other combatants? Or had tragedy befallen him, and he sought to hide a disfigured face? Her Spark ached for the young bot.

The gladiator patted the table. "Please, sit. Take a load off your systems. I know you've had a taxing cycle."

She inclined her helm and pulled herself onto the metal slab. Smiled to herself. "I'm sure you've never had to use this."

This elicited more chuckling. "Once. I've been on it once. My first and only fight with Soundwave here." He playfully nudged the other, who still remained motionless. "I persuaded Clench to keep him alive. He gets to be the champion of his own, separate fights. He's even taught Bludgeon a thing or two."

The femme had no idea who Bludgeon was, but she nodded with how impressed she was, regardless. It seemed Soundwave was on the same level of prowess as Megatronus. And it also appeared that the older warrior held the younger in high respect. Something she didn't think he threw around easily.

Shockwave returned with two vessels of liquefied energon. He handed one to his new patient and one to the warrior. "If you allow me, I will tend to the femme's wounds."

Megatronus nodded after Kryschina gave her approval.

The scientist-turned-medic retrieved a small buffer. First cleaning the dried energon off her white paint. Then polished out the surface scratches.

Kryschina traced her fingers around the rim of the receptiacle. Optics down as Shockwave performed his task. It didn't hurt, but his earlier statement regarding dissection lingered in her processor a little longer than she would've liked.

Megatronus studied her before sitting next to her. Her distressed air didn't go unnoticed by him, and he couldn't exactly blame her. He knew his two companions weren't exactly the most welcoming type. Nodding his thanks to the scientist when he finished, he tilted his helm to the femme. Held up his vessel. "About a toast to victory?" Another smile. "And to new friends."

Kryschina's gaze lifted. A small grin overcame her fascia as they clinked vessels. Both of her hands tightly wrapped around the receptacle, she sipped on the energon. Even though the two Waves were allies of Megatronus, they still unnerved her. One hardly had any faceplates; the other completely hid his.

After the gladiator refused examination, Shockwave went to his station. Immersed himself in his ongoing studies.

Soundwave shifted his weight, but nothing more.

Megatronus downed his energon in one gulp and set the vessel aside. "So, Kryschina. Are you actually from Iacon?"

The silent mech prepared for a background check. Discreetly accessing the Grid.

The femme looked down at the energon in her hands. "Yes. And it is true I'm a teacher. However, I tutor students in the ways of art, not philosophy. After protoforms are given their select," she hesitated, "caste, I take those chosen for the arts."

Her expression became unreadable. "I, along with others, educate botlings in the delicate ways of Cybertronian expression. If they become good enough, they can be commissioned. I was on such a commission when I was nabbed. To a bot I don't know. On a far side of Iacon I wasn't familiar with. My colleagues told me not to accept it, but it's my job, you know? I can't let anybot down. Then I was ambushed, brought here."

Data streamed across the inside of Soundwave's visor. Her story matched recorded information. He gave one nod to Megatronus. She told the truth. So far.

Megatronus turned back to the femme. "You didn't expect Kaon to be so dismal, did you?"

She placed the unfinished vessel off to the side. Hugged herself. "No. I presumed all of Cybertron was like Iacon. That's what I was led to believe. I had heard of Kaon once or twice, but it was always treated as a myth. Something to scare botlings into behaving."

He gave a short laugh. "As long as it works."

A nod, then she continued. "When I first came here, I did learn a lesson. I witnessed bots slay each other for energon. No bot would dare do that in Iacon. Even the atmosphere here is different. Everything is condensed, rough, rusted. They taught me those who were chosen for industrial liked it. It's their preferred way of life, they said. What I have seen is no life."

His red optics burned with passion once more. "This is why I hold no grudges against individuals like you. It's the High Council that needs to change."

She kept her helm down. "I never questioned what I was taught. Always obeyed the commands of the Council. But on this cycle, I have seen a side of Cybertron I hadn't seen before. A side I could very well be living if my protoform was chosen for industrial. No Cybertronian should be forced to live this way."

Soundwave moved his helm just enough to better see his comrade. He wondered what Megatronus thought of this femme. Personally, he didn't trust her. Even if she did check out. And he was having trouble understanding why the gladiator chose to spare her Spark.

Kryschina lifted her crystal blue optics. Startled by the silent bot still standing in the same position. In all honesty, his presence chilled her to the core. There was something about no sounds and limited movements that seemed severely unnatural. Like he was nothing more than a common machine.

Megatronus picked up again on her growing unease. He slid off the examination table. "Would you mind if I showed you something?" He held out his hand.

She nodded. Gave him the honor of helping her up.

"Soundwave, help Shockwave here. I can handle Kryschina and myself. We'll be back before the start of the next cycle."

The assassin wanted to protest, but he simply gave a nod. Though his lithe fingers couldn't help but twitch slightly. He moved to the scientist's side. Folded his arms. Subtle dissent apparent to the two that knew him well.

Shockwave watched the other pair leave, Megatronus leading the way. There was a pause. Then he suddenly straightened and snapped his helm to his silent partner. "I find it highly unnecessary for Megatronus to be searching for a Sparkmate."

Soundwave shrugged. Though he agreed with the cyclops mech.

"You do realize that this is the first interaction he has had with a femme?"

Now it was the exotic mech's turn to snap his helm to his partner.


	5. Chapter 5

Orange and yellow fiercely glowed beneath the pair standing on an outcropping. Four rivers of molten metal poured into a central refinery. A beautiful yet sinister landscape.

Kryschina shifted uncomfortably as the waves of heat floated up to her. Wrapped her arms around herself.

Megatronus stared out at the liquefied metal falls. He finally turned to the femme. "This is our art, if you will. A rather cryptic piece, actually. Most of us end up in the smelters. Most of us end up as melted material that ride these rivers into the refinery. End up in the building blocks of city-states such as Iacon."

She slightly stepped away insides churning at the idea that structures in Iacon might have been made with melted bots. But her optics remained on the molten metal. And while she heard his words, the sloshing roar below would not escape her audio receptors. Nor the screams she imagined.

He frowned at himself for his unmeant implications. "It's not your fault. There is nothing you can do for us or have done against us. I was merely stating our perspective."

The silence that followed was longer than either would've liked.

Kryschina glanced at the warrior. The orange glow fell upon him. He was so striking. With his sharp armor and intense gaze. Yet, the tenderness he held more than surprised her. It amazed her that any bot forced to live this life retained any kindness at all. She looked away when he glanced at her.

It was Megatronus's turn to shift his weight. He didn't know what to say to her. All he knew was he didn't want to take his optics off her. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. The pearl in her paint catching all the different hues yet retaining the pink shimmer. As much as he hated that she was dragged to Kaon, his Spark was happy she was here.

She eventually addressed him, though her optics remained adverted. "Can anything be done about this?"

"It's something I've contemplated for endless cycles." His hands clasped behind his back. "The only solution I can find is somehow convincing the High Council to see what they desperately want to remain blind toward."

"Why don't you speak with them?"

Softly laughing, he cast his gaze down. "They would never listen to a bot like me."

Her helm tilted. "Why not? You're an eloquent speaker. I heard you in the ring."

"I am nothing more than a gladiator."

"Then fight. Do what you do best."

His red optics flickered to her. "Even if I wanted to speak with them, I couldn't. They would never extend an invitation to me."

Kryschina's thin, metal brows knitted as she mused. "I have a friend named Orion Pax. He's a student under Alpha Trion."

Megatronus gave her his full, eager attention. "Alpha Trion?"

She nodded. "I'm sure Orion could get you an audience with him. Alpha Trion seems to be more open-processored than the rest."

"And this…Pax, would he help us?"

More nodding. "I do believe so. He's been confiding in me of late how he's beginning to disagree with the Council. They've been passing questionable decrees. He's never fought a battle, but he's sound in his beliefs."

He mulled this over many times in his processor. "If you vouch for him, and if you think he can grant me audience with Alpha Trion, I will try to speak for my brothers."

She smiled. "Good. And I have faith in Orion."

"Then so do I." He took her hand. "Besides, I need to get you home at some point. We both know Kaon is not a place for a femme."

"Oh."

His helm tilted. "Oh? I thought you'd be excited to return to Iacon. Are you not?"

Kryschina hugged herself. "I am, but I still have so many questions."

"You can ask them on the way there."

Her optics lifted, hopeful.

Megatronus smiled. "Yes, I'm going with you. I am the one escorting you, after all."

"Oh!" Her tone was full of laughter. She put a hand to her helm. "I'm so forgetful sometimes. I think the paint fumes get to me when I'm in my study for too long."

Chuckling, he strolled off to the side. Pressed the Comm on the side of his helm. "Soundwave, meet us on the main bridge." He returned to the femme, who frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Does he have to join us? He really kind of scares me."

He nodded in understanding. "Yes. Soundwave is a valuable mech and a loyal friend. I think it imperative that he joins us."

She hesitated then gave a nod. If Megatronus thought Soundwave was needed, then the silent mech would come along. Not that she was going to admit that she wanted them to travel alone so they could get to know each other better. Never, in a million cycles, would she admit that.

"Are you ready?"

His words pulled her from her processor. "What? Oh, yes. I'm ready."

Inclining his helm, he placed her hand on his arm and led her back through Kaon. Quite pleased with himself for choosing to take her to Iacon. For being with her in general. He just wanted to hear her voice more. "You said you had more questions?"

"I did?" She giggled. Clearly comfortable with the gladiator now. "Well…let's start with you. How did you become the mighty Megatronus?"

"Don't you want to learn about something more interesting?"

She shied. "I think you're interesting."

"Really?" He chuckled. "Then I guess Iacon isn't as exciting as I'm led to believe."

"Um, no. Not really. Iacon is pretty strict. You'd have to go to another city-state for the, uh, 'wild life.'"

"I'll keep that in processor. As for my story, there's not much to tell. The first thing I remember are the mines of Kaon. It'll probably be my last memory. But I was a strong botling. Became bigger than most of my generation. I've worked every task this place has to offer. Done the hardest labors. Yet, my thirst for a challenge was never quenched."

She looked up at him. "You'll get it with the Council."

He nodded. "One of the most challenging things I've found is standing up for those who don't have the ability to stand up for themselves. But I made it my mission. I think that's why Primus granted me such broad shoulder armor. To carry the weight others can't bear on their own. Eventually, Clench recruited me for the Pits. He told me if I fought well, I would go places. I went straight to the top. And I can still help my brothers."

Kryschina beamed with admiration. "Wow, you've done more with your life than I have ever done with mine." But she suddenly quieted when she spied the exotic mech waiting for them on the bridge.

Megatronus didn't push the femme to elaborate on her story, though he wanted to hear it. He turned to the companion she wasn't fond of. "We're taking Kryschina back to Iacon. I want you on perimeter."

Soundwave was thankful for his visor because he couldn't stop the snarl that overcame hm. He had no desires to return to that wretched place. They had mistreated him worse than those running the Pits. But that's what he got for trying to come to the Cybertronians for help.

However, if that's where Megatronus wanted to go, then he would go. At least he could be on perimeter. That was where he excelled. And there was something about startling bots that sent excited chills through his systems. Without so much as a nod, he turned and headed north. Toward Iacon.

Megatronus shrugged, wondering what was bothering his young friend. But he followed his silent partner, regardless.

Kryschina, of course, towed along. Her hand still in the gladiator's elbow.

The trip was relatively noiseless. Save for the occasional greetings the undefeated champion received.

"Hail Megatronus!"

"Our champion!"

"Transform and rise up!"

"Victory is upon us!"

"Primus's gladiator!"

Megatronus took these all in stride, waving and acknowledging those who praised him. Informing every bot about his quest to petition a change to their lifestyle to the High Council in Cybertron's capital. He promised them freedom. And he promised that it would come soon.

The sole femme noticed that no bot paid heed to Soundwave. Nor did he regard any bot. She also perceived subtle changes in Megatronus's demeanor. However, the variations happened only when mechs looked upon her in a threatening way. His metal brows would lower, and his piercing gaze would drill them.

After the trio left the borders of Kaon, total silence ensued once again.

Kryschina hugged herself. Why wasn't Megatronus saying anything? Well, why wasn't she saying anything? She was afraid to break the silence. Perhaps there was a reason for it? Though, the two who botnapped her didn't seem to have a problem being obnoxiously loud when passing through these same areas. Then again, they weren't the brightest lights.

She inwardly sighed. So much for learning more about her hero and the place where he lived. She had even wanted to ask more about Shockwave and Soundwave. It had crossed her processor that maybe he didn't say much about Soundwave was because the silent mech was right there. Was that cause for the stillness now? But the two mechs seemed to be on alert. No, it was just Megatronus. Wait. Where was—

A dead body covered in armor she had never seen before landed at her feet, causing her to compulsorily scream. She ran behind the gladiator for cover and comfort. Clung to his arm.

Soundwave stood over his kill, motionless.

Megatronus frowned. Nudged the body on its back with a foot. "This is why I wanted to bring Soundwave." His optics lifted to the Silent Assassin. "A rogue?"

One nod.

The gladiator sneered and continued on his way. Left the body behind. Explained to the femme. "Rogues are unpredictable, but they are always loyal to themselves. They're some of the worst scrap metal on the face of this planet. I hate them. It's better for every bot if the rogues are killed."

Kryschina stood for but a nanocycle then scurried after the warrior. Resumed to the sound of nothing. Once they had traveled farther, she brightened. A white glow appeared on the horizon, and she had never been so thankful. She focused on the growing display of lights.

Iacon drew near.


	6. Chapter 6

Hello everybody! I just wanted to start off this chapter by apologizing. I know it's been a couple months since I last uploaded. Unfortunately, life was hectic as I had a chronic illness, followed by a close family member passing away. I'm not saying this to pine for attention or sympathy; I'm explaining why I've been absent. Have no fear! I have not lost interest in my stories! I plan on adding as much as I can until, well, frankly, I die. Also, this chapter is rather long. On one hand, I feel like I should apologize, but on the other hand, I feel like it suits since I've been gone for so long. Please enjoy!

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If Megatronus was to be honest with himself, Iacon wasn't nearly as picturesque as he thought it would be.

Yes, it glowed white with hints of purplish-blue. Yes, its buildings were more architecturally pleasing to look at, placed in mathematical perfection. And yes, there were expansive freeways for easy and convenient travel.

However, it was just as cramped as Kaon. The buildings were on top of each other. Smog rose into the sky from the higher caste's consumerism. These bots were as jaded as the ones roaming Kaon. All in a hurry to get nowhere in particular with a glazed look over their optics. Not believing they had any purpose to their existence, even with their flashy new armor and paint schemes.

The gladiator shook his head, throwing a glance at his silent partner. This was supposed to be paradise? If so, he was severely disappointed.

Kryschina took the lead now. Clearly back in her element. Her smile returned, and a skip entered her step. It was so refreshing to be home. Back in the envelopment of safety. The air was cleaner, the atmosphere lighter, and no bot was killing each other over energon. She was glad to be freed from the Pits.

She carried about her trademark routine of waving at everybot she knew and even acknowledging the ones she didn't. Her normally joyous energy infected most bots. But her smile soon faded. Her friendly gestures weren't returned. In fact, every bot strayed from her like she carried the Plague. Or like she had an invisible force field. She frowned.

The citizens of Iacon either turned their helms or stared with wide optics at the trio making their way down the city-state's most-used freeway. Most fascia features contorted to disgust. Those from Kaon were rarely allowed such a freedom as visitation. On the occasion they were allowed, it was if the whole of Iacon grew prejudice in its circuitry.

Megatronus expected such reactions and reacted accordingly. Which was not reacting at all. His crimson gaze took note, but his helm remained high and his shoulder armor broad. So far, he was the largest bot he had seen here. Though none of the citizens showed fear nor respect. He wasn't sure whether to commemorate them or hate them.

Kryschina squealed, trotting toward a bright orange femme standing near one of the many vendors advertising various concoctions of energon. "Copper!"

The addressed bot turned and smiled. Making sure to keep her slender figure apparent to the mechs surrounding her. "Krys!" After exchanging hugs, she held the white femme back. "Where have you been? Everybot's been worried sick about you."

"You'll never believe it. I was botnapped and taken to Kaon."

"No way." Copper leaned closer. "Do go on."

Kryschina's hands became animated as she recounted her tale. "Yes. I was take to the Pits, which is this terrifying energon bath. It was just horrible. I was meant to die, but their champion spared me." She motioned to where Megatronus had stopped a respectful distance away.

The orange femme initially regarded him with wide optics. Then she sneered. "So you're hanging out with _them_ now? They must've really processor-washed you if you can't remember where your rightful place is." Without another word, she pivoted and disappeared among the throng, followed by her entourage.

Kryschina blinked. Slowly turned around. Plodded back to the gladiator. "Wh-what just happened?"

Megatronus's metal brows furrowed. "Your High Council's beliefs in action. I will forever be seen as sludge because of the caste system. But that doesn't mean I'm going to let them stop me. You shouldn't let them stop you, either."

Soundwave's fingers twitched. It was so easy for the Cybertronians to turn on each other. As well as outsiders. It was why he despised them. With the exception of Megatronus, of course.

Rubbing the sides of her helm, the white femme sighed. "Let's just…let's just go to the Hall. Orion will be there."

The gladiator wanted to make sure she was okay before they continued, but he simply nodded and followed.

It didn't take long for the jeers, taunts, and threats to begin. Hateful words and slurs. Warnings of consequences if the lower caste members overstayed their welcome. Reminders that the pair wasn't welcome in the first place.

Megatronus took these all in stride. Their attempts at making him feel horrible were pathetic. He endured far worse in the Pits. Beaten and slandered until all of his sensitivity was vanquished. He studied Kryschina. Well. Maybe not all.

His Spark went out to her as the haggling continued. Especially when they turned on her. She kept on toward the center of Iacon, but he could see the words weighing her down. He could plainly tell she had never received this type of treatment from her own kind before.

He had seen it countless times in Kaon. Brother turning on brother over miniscule things. Not that he didn't expect it here, but it still disgusted him. Iacon had always been intended to be a beacon of hope and future. At least, that's how he understood it to be advertised. And it somewhat angered him they were stuck in these ways of the past.

The silver mech was pulled from his thoughts when a vessel of energon was thrown at him.

"Go back to your own place, stupid lower member," the perpetrator called.

Soundwave was upon the mech in an instant, pinning him to the ground in one fell swoop, right hand held above and ready to strike.

Gasps came from the crowds, and some called for law enforcement.

Megatronus allowed the silent fighter to perform the actions. It would do those Iaconians some good to feel fear. Rose a brow at the energon on his left arm. His heavy steps carried him over. Placed a hand on Soundwave's shoulder.

The exotic mech twitched his fingers so they became sharp stilettos with a deadly _shink_.

The mech on the ground visibly trembled. "Call him off. Call him off!"

Megatronus smiled. "You see, where we come from, we're taught to fight for our beliefs. In fact, we have to fight for every aspect of our lives. In Kaon, it's bot-eat-bot, and there are no rules to stop cruelty. Soundwave here is merely doing what comes natural for us. You threatened his friend, and he has a right to kill you over it. I can let him proceed."

"No. Please, by Primus, no. I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. It was…it was all in good fun, I-I swear! I'm sorry."

Megatronus tilted his helm so he could better his counterpart. "There, he apologized. I think that suffices."

Soundwave leaned his visored fascia closer to the bot he straddled. His fingers still poised for attack. It would be nothing for him to pierce the other's armor and rip out his Spark.

"Soundwave," he warned with a deeper tone as multiple bots clad in black and white approached rather quickly.

The silent slowly stepped off. Straightening and relaxing his fingers back to normal. But his gaze burned behind his visor.

One of the officers squared up to the back of the larger of the two from Kaon. "Do we have a problem here?"

Megatronus turned around, causing the officer to back up several paces. Looked at the one who initiated the whole thing. " _Do_ we have a problem here?"

The mech shook his head. "No. We're absolutely fine."

Megatronus smiled at the law enforcement officers. "No. Have a good cycle." He, along with Soundwave, returned to Kryschina.

The trio of officers merely stood in shock.

Kryschina tried wiping what energon she could off her savior's arm. "Are you okay?"

Megatronus grabbed her hand to keep her from fussing over him further. "I'm fine. These petty bots have no effect on me. You've seen what the Pits are like."

She shied as he released her hand. "Yes. Well, let's get to the Hall before the officers change their minds and want to pursue. I'm not fond of the idea of being imprisoned."

The Hall of Records sat neatly on the edge of the center of Iacon. A rather dome-like building, the Hall was forged from the finest materials Cybertron had to offer and etched with archaic Cybertronian language. However, it was severely overshadowed.

The exact center housed the meeting place of the High Council. Indeed, the High Council Tower dwarfed everything around it. Built on a supercomputer designated Teletraan-1, it soared into the skies. Simple glyphs and murals at ground level presented a biased history of Cybertron. Materials foraged from across the known universe set the tower apart from everything else in Iacon.

Megatronus studied the High Council Tower. Hopefully, soon, he would be able to stand inside and plead his cause. Even if the murals depicting Cybertron as a peaceful planet made him scoff.

Kryschina turned to the two mechs she had been leading, barely keeping herself together. "Here's the, um, Hall of Records. Shall we, shall we go inside?"

The gladiator inclined his head. Not wanting to push her too far. "I'm ready only whenever you are."

She wasn't ready. Some of the most pretentious bots could be found within the library walls. She didn't know how much more ridicule her Spark could take. What had happened still baffled her. But she wanted to help Megatronus the best she could. He had done so much for her.

Summoning her courage—little it may be—she entered the Hall.

Despite the relatively quiet nature of the library, an even more unsettling silence dropped. Femmes and mechs at their public-use data terminals froze whatever they were doing. Stared with wide optics.

The white femme did her best not to look at anybot. Not greet their cruel gazes. She went straight to the center of the Hall of Records. Walking briskly while trying not to seem in too much of a hurry.

Megatronus's footsteps echoed, creating the only noise, outside of Kryschina's pattering steps. He allowed his steady pace and gaze to sink in to those who stared. Yes, he was in their domain and created a disturbance. No, he didn't care for what they had to think about him.

Kryschina stole into the archival room. Somewhat freaked out that the gladiator was so loud. Without acknowledging anybot again, she reached the data station of Orion Pax, located in the furthest back.

One of the archivists ran out in search of Alpha Trion to report the two Kaonians.

Orion lifted his helm. Joy spreading across his faceplates as he embraced the femme. "Kryschina! What happened? I heard you were missing."

"I was botnapped."

His bright blue optics widened. "What?"

She nodded. "Yes. I was taken to Kaon."

"Kaon?" The red and blue mech moved back to his station, typing inputs. "I've kept an optic and audio receptor on the Grid. Nothing has been said of you. Nothing has been said of Kaon. I was actually trying to convince Alpha Trion to send a search party for you."

Kryschina softened. "I'm a simple teacher of the arts. Nobot cares if I'm missing."

He placed a gentle hand on her arm. "You're more than that. You're a good friend. And I care."

Megatronus slightly coughed.

Orion turned to him then took a step back. Immediately recognizing the gladiator. But he held neither fear nor hatred. Instead, his fascia held awe and admiration.

Kryschina smiled. "Orion Pax, I'd like you to meet Megatronus and Soundwave."

The silver mech held out a hand.

Which Orion eagerly shook. "This is incredible. I never thought I would actually meet you, and here you are, standing in front of me."

Megatronus's helm tilted as the archivist continued shaking his hand. "You've heard of me?"

"Oh, yes. I've been following your matches the best I can. I know you're the undefeated champion of Kaon. And you speak with so much passion about the equality of all Cybertronians." Orion then turned to the exotic mech, offering a handshake. "I've also kept up with your matches. Your fighting style is unlike anything I've ever seen."

Soundwave didn't move. Didn't acknowledge that a bot was speaking to him. Data was streaming across the inside of his visor. Downloading every shred of information regarding this Orion Pax. He was having a hard time believing this was the bot that would help their cause.

The librarian blinked and dropped his hand.

Megatronus chuckled. "Don't mind him. He's like that to everybot. Though, I must say I'm surprised you're open to things concerning lower castes."

Orion nodded. "I also believe the caste system is wrong. It's bothered my Spark for many decacycles."

Kryschina glanced around the room. The other archivists had already lost interest, but she lowered her voice anyway. "That's why I brought him here. You know the ways of the High Council, both old and new. You're the most skilled debater. I know you agree with Megatronus's beliefs. As do I. He needs to be heard by an audience who can put actions to his words."

Orion's face went to his trademark blank stare that formed when he was in thought. He eventually turned his back to them. "I do not think I am qualified."

Soundwave shifted his weight, tilting his visor to better look at his fellow in arms. Clearly, they were wasting cycles.

Kryschina rounded the data pad so she could look the clerk in the optics. "Do not play the humble game with me, Pax."

His gaze lifted. Startled by the fire burning in her own.

"If I didn't think you were qualified, I wouldn't have brought them here. I will _not_ stand here and pretend otherwise. I've seen it, Orion. Kaon and its Pits. Its rings fueled with need for escape and lust for spilt energon. I've seen neglected bots drudge through every nanocycle because someone pointed their finger and doomed them to that horrid life.

The red and blue mech kept his helm down. This wasn't the first time he had been ranted to by the femme. He had a feeling it wouldn't be the last time, either.

Her gentle voice strengthened. "I could very well be in Kaon. The only reason they chose me for the arts is because my optics look like energon crystals."

He glanced up.

"Energon crystals, Pax!" She slammed her hands on the data station.

The other archivists paused, gaping at her. Many were startled by her sudden exclamation.

Kryschina cooled her engines. Becoming aware of her surroundings. Taking a deep breath, she also took a nanocycle. She had no idea she could get so riled up.

Orion's metal brows knitted. "You mentioned the Pits. You were in them?"

Megatronus stepped forward. "Clench had her brought to me for entertainment slaughter. He expected to make more Shanix than ever. But I couldn't fight her. She was innocent. I dismembered Ringmaster instead."

The librarian's optics widened. "No wonder I couldn't find your latest match."

Kryschina nodded. "You told me once that freedom is the right of all sentient beings. I'm asking if you still believe that. You and I both know things our caste dictates we shouldn't know. Do you remember how we met?"

Orion smiled. "Of course. I was digging through ancient texts."

"And I came along to do the same. Remember how scared we were that we'd get caught? All the scenarios we came up with for how they would punish us?"

"Yes. Until we made a pact not to say anything. Also, to protect each other in case one was found out."

The femme nodded some more. "We were both looking for answers the High Council wouldn't give us. Now we can ask the High Council directly. Megatronus has the courage and strength neither of us have. We simply need an audience with Alpha Trion first."

He glanced off to the side. It was true he didn't have the courage to directly challenge the High Council. Especially alone.

Kryschina moved around the data terminal and stood in front of the silver gladiator. "I ask you this, Orion Pax. Are you with us, or are you against us?"

Orion lifted his optics.


	7. Chapter 7

The following cycles proved to be full of anxiety yet also prosperous. Orion Pax had agreed to help Megatronus in the campaign to get the High Council to see the error of their ways. To see the realistic effects of Sentinel Prime's caste system. Something that was destroying Cybertron's infrastructure, rather than strengthening it.

Kaon was not the only city-state succumbed to Iacon's decisions. Blaster City and Slaughter City, also filled with the lower caste industrial workers, were never cared about when something went wrong and many of their Cybertronians perished. City-states such as Crystal City and Tyger Pax were similar to Iacon and allowed the luxuries of the elite, the higher castes.

And all the territories were growing ever tense and wary of their neighbors.

Alpha Trion proved not to be as challenging of an obstacle as the trio expected. In fact, the head archivist was more than happy to petition their cause, be the liaison between them and the High Council. However, he did warn them it would take time, and they would have to be patient.

And time, it did take.

Decacycles passed with Alpha Trion working on the High Council once every cycle.

The trio truly had their patience tested, even Orion Pax. They spent most of their cycles in the Hall of Records. Researching text regarding the original Thirteen Primes. Studying the High Council and the councils before them. Anything they could find that would help them prepare.

But their bonds with each other grew. Orion and Megatronus became like brothers, with Megatronus taking on the role as the older, protective one. Orion and Kryschina remained close. Their friendship becoming stronger. However, it was Kryschina and Megatronus that formed an even closer relationship.

One that Orion respected.

Even more time passed.

It was a particularly bright cycle that found the white femme in her abode in the Arts Guild District. She was tidying up, and the light streaming in made her iridescent paint shimmer even more than normal.

Megatronus burst through the front door. Voice booming with exhilaration. "Krys!" Upon locating her in a back room, he picked her up and twirled her around. Not wanting to put her down just yet.

Kryschina giggled at his antics. Not sure if she had ever seen him so giddy. "What is it? You obviously have my attention."

"They finally said yes. Alpha Trion won them over. The High Council said they'll see us in three cycles." His red optics relaying the excitement pouring from his Spark.

"Oh, Megs!" She hugged as much of his helm as her small frame allowed. "This is wonderful news."

He squeezed her with taking care not to crush her. "You should join us. Tell them what happened to you and how your own caste shunned you because of something that was out of your control."

"Please, Megs. Be serious."

"I am serious, Krys."

She caressed the side of his helm. "I'm more than happy for you. Truly, I am. But the High Council would never listen to a femme. I'm not even good at speaking anyway. Especially when it comes to matters of persuasion."

Megatronus adjusted his arms so she could sit on them while he still had her hoisted. "You convinced me to come to Iacon. And you convinced Orion to help us. You're better than you give yourself credit for. The High Council would listen to you. Being a femme has nothing to do with it. One of the original Thirteen was a femme. The first femme."

Kryschina sighed but smiled. "I know, I know. Solus Prime. She was the one that fell in love with Megatronus and possessed the Forge."

He grinned. "I guess that makes you my Solus Prime."

Her faceplates warmed, and she turned her optics away. "But in all seriousness, I'm perfectly happy with just being moral support. I've typically been a behind the scenes bot rather than being on the front lines."

"Well, if we're continuing to be serious, may I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

Placing her back on the floor, the gladiator humbled himself to one knee, clenching a fist over his Spark. "Would you do this warrior the honors of becoming his Sparkmate?"

She brought both hands to her mouth. Vocal processor locking up. Shyly reached out a hand to his helm. "Megs…" Brought her hand back to her chest plate. Her own Spark pulsated faster than it ever had before. All her circuits trembling. But she finally managed a nod. "Y-yes, I mean, of course!"

Megatronus scooped her up into his arms once more as he rose to his feet. Twirling around and around with her. "You have made me the happiest Cybertronian that ever lived. Thank you." He nuzzled her fascia against hers.

Kryschina giggled again and returned the gentle affection. Her Spark the most content it had ever been. This was the purpose for her life, not forever being a simple teacher for the arts, but to be her savior's Sparkmate. By Primus, she just knew this was the right path.

"Let's join Sparks now."

She straightened in his grasp, somewhat startled by his statement. "Now?"

His optics glittered with hope. "Yes. I've already spoken with Alpha Trion. He will perform the ceremony. We can have Orion and Soundwave be our witnesses."

Her crystalline optics searched him. It seemed so soon. But what would be a better time than now? With the turn of good luck they finally received, why not do it now? Joining between castes was greatly frowned upon. So why not start the revolution by breaking one of the most enforced laws? Why prolong their budding love? If Primus wanted them to be together, then together they should be.

She was breathless with the thoughts she once would've never imagined would run through her processor. "I mean…yes. Let's do it now."

Joyous laughter erupted from the silver mech as he spun around with her one last time for extra measure. Set her down. Smiling even more as she took his hand and led him outside.

Soundwave had been on guard, but what transpired inside had not gone unheard by him. Though he remained motionless, he was intently staring at the gladiator. Pleased and displeased that his visor permanently covered his fascia. There were times when he really wanted the silver mech to see his expressions.

Megatronus had already confided in him about his love for the white femme. Numerous times over the past decacycles. And took the exotic mech's silence as encouragement. However, Soundwave had all but been internally screaming at his protector.

Firstly, he didn't trust the femme, as he didn't trust anybot but Megatronus. And secondly, he didn't see how a Spark joining would help the cause. He saw nothing but disaster from this. Yet, who was he to deny Megatronus his happiness? So he slightly inclined his helm when the silver mech looked at him for support.

The newly-engaged pair strode together to the Hall of Records. Completely oblivious to those who still haggled the lower caste member. Unaware of those who persisted in jeers. They had each other, and that was all that mattered to them at the moment. Soon, they would be each other's for all eternity.

Once in the Hall, they gathered a very surprised but happy Orion Pax from his data station. All but pranced into Alpha Trion's workplace.

The wise sage looked up from the old book and stylus many gave him gruff about still using when this Golden Age provided much more advanced resources. He straightened and stroked his white, metal beard. Playing the innocent. Though his white optics held a flicker of mischievousness. "I suppose you have all come for more guidance regarding the High Council's decision?"

Megatronus boldly stepped forward, trying not to smile as the old mech knew what they were after. He motioned for Kryschina to join him. "I'm afraid that will have to wait until another time. Krys and I have come before you so that you may join our Sparks."

"Ah, I see." The ancient, purple mech rose, his matching cloak settling around his tall frame. "Of course, we will need at least one witness per party member."

Orion lifted a finger and approached as well. "I shall be the witness for Kryschina."

Soundwave hesitated. There was still no need for this ceremony. But he rose to the occasion, as well, giving a slight nod toward Megatronus. He was doing this only because he was a good friend.

Alpha Trion let his gaze wander over the four young Cybertronians. "I will warn you, a Spark-joined life is not always easy. It can be filled with complications. Trust, patience, compromise, and communication are but a few requirements you will need to be successful with each other. Do you still wish to proceed?"

"Yes," was the mutual response from Megatronus and Kryschina.

The head archivist of Iacon cleared his vocal processor. "Join hands and face each other. Orion, stand next to Kryschina, and Soundwave, stand next to Megatronus." Once he was satisfied with their placement, he held a hand toward the silver mech. "This process is relatively simple. All I need you to do is repeat after me. I, Megatronus."

The gladiator broadened his shoulders. "I, Megatronus."

"Willfully and freely give my love, life, and Spark to Kryschina."

Megatronus looked the femme in the optics. "Willfully and freely give my love, life, and Spark to Kryschina."

Alpha Trion continued. "In all good cycles and bad, in cycles of health and rust, until our Sparks are extinguished."

"In all good cycles and bad, in cycles of health and rust, until our Sparks are extinguished."

The grand purple mech turned to the white femme. "Please repeat after me, my dear. I, Kryschina."

The teacher of the arts kept herself from giggling with the nerves and excitement threatening to overwhelm her. "I, Kryschina."

"Willfully and freely give my love, life, and Spark to Megatronus."

She squeezed her warrior's hands. "Willfully and freely give my love, life, and Spark to Megatronus."

"In all good cycles and bad, in cycles of health and rust, until our Sparks are extinguished."

Her optics sparkled. "In all good cycles and bad, in cycles of health and rust, until our Sparks are extinguished."

Alpha Trion smiled. "By the archaic powers that I have been entrusted with by Primus, I declare the two of you Sparkmates."

Megatronus lifted up the tiny femme, compared to his strong frame, keeping an arm under her so she could sit on it for support.

Shyly smiling, she placed a hand on the side of his faceplates. "We are now one."

He matched her expression of joy. "Yes, we are." Gently pulling her helm closer, he initiated their first kiss.

Orion slightly smiled and turned away out of respect for the new couple.

Alpha Trion beckoned the two witnesses over, handing the stylus first to Orion. "Sign on the first blank." With a satisfied nod, he motioned for the stylus to be handed to the exotic mech. "And you, the second blank."

Soundwave threw an undetectable glance to his fellow combatant. While he wasn't sure this union was the wisest course of action, he flourished his signature on the designated line. As he watched the Great Archivist snap the old book closed, he could've sworn he saw his and Orion's names glow and dance across the page.

His gaze turned upon the old mech. Perhaps there was more to him than met the optic.


	8. Chapter 8

Immediately after the ceremony had ended, Megatronus had carried Kryschina back to her home. Back to their home. And once the front door had slid closed behind them, they hadn't planned on coming back out.

Something that irritated Soundwave to no end. Yet, he had decided he would remain dutifully by the door. Guarding it against anybot who sought to disturb the new couple. Though he couldn't help but think of what Shockwave would have to say about all of this.

Two cycles passed. There was only one cycle left before the meeting with the High Council.

But this had no effect on the pair recently joined in Sparks. They were caught up in the bliss of a new type of romance and ever-growing love.

Megatronus was on his back on the floor, both hands behind his helm. Optics closed, expression peaceful. Kryschina lounged on his chest plates, and he only stirred when she did.

The white femme lifted her helm, rubbing an optic.

The silver mech smiled at her confused expression. "Did you have a nice power down?"

"Mm-hmm." She moved her arms so she could prop herself up on her elbows. "Did you?"

"I still haven't quite learned how to power down. We had designated times for it in Kaon, yes, but hardly any bot did it. To power down meant leaving yourself vulnerable for attack or energon syphoning."

Her metal brows knitted. "Hopefully, we can change that."

"Let's not worry about that right now. Let's just worry about you and me. We're together now. Until our Sparks die."

Kryschina smiled. "Yes. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

Megatronus removed one arm from behind his helm so he could hold the side of her helm in his hand. "Neither would I. This is the happiest I have ever been in my dark life. And it's all because of you."

Her face plates warmed, and she kept his hand against her. "I'm the happiest I've ever been, too. I always thought there was a void in my life, and now there isn't. All I needed was you."

He chuckled. "We needed each other, and it's technically illegal."

"I have thought about that." Her optics lowered. "What will happen if they find us out? Spark joining between castes is one of the most forbidden acts a Cybertronian can do."

"Krys, look at me."

Her crystalline optics found his crimson ones as she held on to his hand tighter.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I promise."

She nodded.

"Hey." Her removed his other hand and put it on the other side of her helm. "I mean it." Then he flashed his charming grin. "Do you really think any of those flashy-painted authorities can take down Kaon's greatest champion?"

The femme giggled. "No. They would probably try, but they would have no idea what they would be up against."

"Precisely." He took her by the waist, setting her carefully on the floor. "Give me just a nanocycle. I'll be right back."

Kryschina gave a nod. Watching him leave the room. Smiling as he had to duck through the doorways because he was so tall. Then she repositioned herself on her knees, checking her finish for flaws and looking as proper as possible.

Soon came Megatronus's call. "Close your optics. No peeking."

She giggled loud enough where he could hear. "Okay. I promise I'm not peeking."

Her audio receptors followed his steps back into the room and behind her. Registered that he sat on the floor. Then there was silence. Her circuitry electrified as something cool brushed against the top of her chest plates before it settled into the little 'v' shape they made.

The mech placed his hands on her shoulders. "Now, you may look."

Opening her optics, she looked down and gasped. A slender crystal of rarified energon dangled from a silver chain. "Oh, Megs! This is beautiful."

"So you like it?"

Kryschina turned around and slung her arms around his neck. "I love it. How did you come by such a piece of rarified energon?"

Megatronus shrugged. "I know a few bots. I wanted to give it to you sooner, but I also wanted to wait until after we joined Sparks. I want it to symbolize my undying love for you. A physical representation of me giving my Spark to you."

"Megs…" Her optics searched him. She didn't know what to say. So she did what first came to her processor. Throwing herself against him, she pressed her lips against his.

He eagerly accepted her token of affection. Gently wrapped his arms around her as he laid back with her. Giving and taking in their lip-locked embrace, elated by the fact that she didn't show any signs of wanting to stop.

The femme continued in the display until she couldn't any longer. Pulled back just enough, breathless. Though she left her lips tantalizingly close above his.

Lifting his helm a little, he stole another kiss from her. Grinned. "I love you."

She smiled and finally dropped her helm on him. Traced some of the lines of his armor. "Can I ask you something, Megs?"

"Of course."

"How…how do you feel about botlings?"

Megatronus froze.

Kryschina pushed herself up, afraid she had asked too soon.

He blinked. "Well. I've honestly never pictured myself being a father."

"I think you would be marvelous at it."

Sitting up, he supported her so she would be kept against him. "I don't know, Krys. All I've known is the life of a warrior. I'm not sure that's fatherly material. My early life wasn't like yours. As soon as they saw I had red optics, they shipped me to Kaon."

She took his large hands in her dainty ones. "But you know love. You're more than wonderful with me. And think about it. If Primus blesses us with a botling, then everybot will know we were meant to be together. Not even the High Council could deny it."

He still seemed doubtful. "What if Primus doesn't give us a botling?"

"Then we'll know we're not ready yet, and we can try again later."

"And you really think I can make a good father?"

Both of her hands went on either side of his helm. "I know so."

Searching the floor, he contemplated for just a bit more. Looked at her. "They'll never let us in."

She grinned. "It's a good thing we know a bot."

* * *

Alpha Trion glanced up from his desk when three bots entered. The cycle was coming to an end, and the city-state had gone mostly dark. "Is there something I can help you with? I assume it isn't political since Orion isn't with you."

Kryschina clasped her hands together. "We want a botling."

This didn't take the head archivist by surprise. He had only wandered how soon they would come to him. Placing his stylus down, he closed his ancient book. "You will never pass security. And I do believe the Well is closed for this cycle."

Megatronus inclined his helm. "That is why we came to you."

Alpha Trion stroked his metal beard. "And what do you think of this, Soundwave?"

The exotic mech remained motionless. But he had been internally screaming since Megatronus told him to follow so they could get a botling. He felt like all of his circuitry was on the fritz. This was not logical at all. Yet, he didn't move nor speak.

Kryschina seemed mildly concerned, but Megatronus waved his friend's silence away.

The old mech rose. "Well. Who am I to stop the honest desires of a pair of young bots? Let's go see if Primus will give you a botling."

Squealing, Kryschina hugged the sage then took her partner's hand. All but jumping up and down.

Megatronus chuckled and put an arm around her.

Alpha Trion led the trio down into the heart of Iacon. Not many bots milled about, especially in this part of the district, so contact was rare. Not to mention, the security was rather lax at this part of the cycle. One guard wasn't too much for him to handle.

He explained the history of the Well as they passed through the main chambers underneath the High Council Tower. Giving an understanding to what they were about to see. "Iacon was built around the Well of Allsparks. That's why it's perfectly mathematical. It's also why Iacon is the capital of Cybertron. The High Council isn't as important as they like to believe."

Grabbing a white lantern off a wall, he continued leading them down a spiral staircase. "After Primus and the Thirteen defeated Unicron, Primus forged himself into the very heart of Cybertron. Thus, creating the Well. Iacon was built around it for protection, standing as a shield and final defense in case Unicron should ever rise again."

Megatronus nodded. "Strategic."

"Indeed. With all the hustle and bustle of Iacon, mixed with the new lines of technology it's always producing, the Well's signature gets lost in the confusion. It's not the beacon Unicron will be looking for. But let us pray Unicron stays buried wherever he is."

Soundwave secretly recorded everything that transpired. Pulling in references off the Grid. He wasn't happy about what they were doing, but he knew the value of archiving once-in-a-lifetime data.

Kryschina had long been antsy. "How much further do we have to go?"

Alpha Trion laughed. "It is said the trek is long so that prospecting parents have ample time to process their decision. But don't have a faint Spark. For we have arrived."

The trio stepped into a massive chamber. All optics wide.

The Well of Allsparks was bigger than the three younger bots imagined. A circular pit, none could tell how deep the Well was. Though logic reasoned it went all the way to Cybertron's core. The chamber was dark, save for the light coming from the Well. Purplish-blue, it was the same light that made Iacon glow.

From the ceiling of the chamber dropped what appeared to be a rather large computer nestled against a wall. Thick cables also ran from the ceiling to the computer to inside the Well itself. And the Well was definitely alive and powering the computer. A deep rumble rhythmically emerged, the sound of a beating Spark.

The Hall of Records was considered a place of reverence, with the ancient knowledge it contained, but it was nothing compared to what could only be described as the Spark of Primus. The sanctity of this place was enough to severely overwhelm the three who had never been here before.

Alpha Trion approached the computer station. "This is an extension of Teletraan 1. It will read your biometrics and send the information to Primus. He will then decide if you get botlings and what they will look like. Kryschina and Megatronus, I need you, please."

It was hard for the pair to tear their optics away from the Well, but they followed the beckoning, hand in hand.

The Archivist typed in a command that prompted a panel to emerge from the computer. Then he took Kryschina's left hand and placed it on the marked location. Proceeded to do the same with Megatronus. Keyed in more commands. "Remain still and let Teletraan 1 do the rest."

Soundwave took note of how familiar Alpha Trion was with the machine. How familiar he was with the Well. It made sense that the old mech would know how to operate it, being a bot who does nothing but gather information, but at the same time, he couldn't help but be suspicious. What business did an archiver have coming down here previously?

A laser scanner on the panel passed under the placed hands multiple times. Data streaming and clicking across the above screen. Finished, it made a satisfied beep. Transferred the information through the cables. To the Well. The scanning panel unlocked and slid back into the computer.

Alpha Trion motioned. "Go look and see what Primus decides."

Megatronus took the lead. Tightly grasping his Sparkmate's hand, he cautiously approached the Well. He had never felt this much pressure. Not in the Pits. Not even from Clench.

Kryschina clutched her midsection with her free hand. Her nerves were getting to her, and she felt like she was about to purge her systems. She would accept whatever fate Primus would give them, but she really wanted a botling.

The Well of Allsparks buzzed, sending waves of electricity into the air. The glow intensified, and the pool of rarified energon within the Well churned. At first, this was all that happened. Then a small fount of the energon that made up the base of Cybertronian life rose straight out of the Well.

Not one, but _two_ protoforms drifted up into the fount. Primus then molded the protoforms to shape proper botlings, giving each one distinct features. A surge of energy and light, and he bestowed Sparks upon them. The glow returned to its more dim nature, but the fount remained.

Alpha Trion removed the two botlings. Handed one to Kryschina and one to Megatronus. Smiled. "Congratulations. You're the proud parents of twin femmes."

The vertical stream of energon collapsed back into the Well. The electricity dissipated, and the rhythmic humming returned.

Kryschina gasped at the little one in her arms. Tears of lubricant pooling in her optics. She caressed her botling's tiny helm and kissed the top of it.

Megatronus wasn't quite sure what to do with the botling small enough to fit in one hand. But as soon as she bit his nearest finger, he erupted into joyous laughter.

Soundwave kept his distance. Not sure he wanted anything to do with the botlings. Not even sure he knew what to do with a botling. But he still recorded.

The Sparkmates introduced their botlings to each other, swapping holding duty. They laughed, cried, and cooed over their new daughters. Thankful that Primus found them worthy of additional life. Wondering if their own lives could get any better. Surely, nothing could make them happier.

Unfortunately, that happiness was not one that would last.


	9. Chapter 9

*Author's Note: Just wanted to take a quick second to reiterate that the characters Umbra, Omne, and Lumena belong to my friend, who you can check out on DeviantArt under the username MaiaNightmareMoon! She's got a bunch of Egyptian stories and art if you love the Egyptian pantheon! Please check her out! I hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving, and as always, thanks again for reading!

* * *

The cycle came to meet with the High Council much sooner than any of the younger bots desired. None felt as if they were prepared enough, but Orion Pax and Megatronus stood before the five councilmembers with passion and resolve.

However, the High Council ignored their pleas. Choosing instead to make fun of the pair before them. Dismissing them with scoffs and waves of their hands. Sentinel Prime was the instigator for most of this. Not that the other four members needed any kind of encouragement for their heckling.

The next cycle proved to be the exact same situation for Orion and Megatronus when they approached the High Council.

And the next cycle.

And the next.

It took thirty seven cycles before the High Council realized that Orion Pax and Megatronus were not going to back down as easily as they anticipated. It took a total of fifty three cycles before the High Council would let the pair of mechs properly debate. Sixty six cycles before the High Council actually paid attention to what the debates were even about.

Orion Pax proved himself to be every bit of the eloquent speaker Kryschina had claimed him to be. He captivated the councilmembers with his honest nature and nonthreatening voice. He proposed a peaceful unification of all castes into one, casteless society. He offered ideas that each bot could choose for themselves what they wanted to do. That each bot could choose where they wanted to live on Cybertron. That every single bot deserved the right of freedom.

Megatronus also proved to quite a captivating speaker. His words and actions were grand. His very presence dominated the floor and demanded everybot's attention. But he proposed a different way of processing than Orion. The endless cycles of the needless torment had hardened his Spark—both in Kaon and in front of the High Council. He proclaimed that the higher castes should be forced to accept the cruelties of the lower castes. That the lower castes be promoted to the luxuries of the higher castes. It seemed only fair to his processor.

And the pair had to recite their same arguments over and over for an additional twenty four cycles.

It had been a total of 180 cycles since the start of what they had hoped to be a revolution.

Orion Pax held up better to the constant ridicule far better than he anticipated. Far better than anybot anticipated. In fact, he grew more confident with each passing cycle. The High Council's resistance only fueled his quiet ambition. Though, he usually still sought advice from Alpha Trion and Kryschina. There was something about being surrounded by friends that filled him with hope. And the twin botlings encouraged him to create a better future for all bots.

Megatronus, on the other hand, grew incredibly impatient and angry with each passing cycle. The High Council's stubbornness made no sense to him. He possessed all the confidence he ever needed, but he found he lacked the outlet the Pits had provided for him. He wouldn't return home until late in the cycles, leaving Kryschina to care for the botlings on her own. He traversed energon bars throughout Iacon. Provoking fights so he could find his release.

Kryschina found herself caught between multiple worlds. Her primary world was her two daughters. They needed her care and affection more than any other bot in existence. Another world revolved around being the support Orion Pax needed. She had no intentions of abandoning her long-time friend. Then there was her Sparkmate. While she continued loving him, his rising temper scared her. She didn't know how to comfort him. A topic she quite often brought to Orion so she could find guidance and solace.

Soundwave remained as silent as ever. Forever seeing and hearing from the shadows. His warrior-in-arms concerned him as much as everybot else. He watched Megatronus grow restless, and this was not of the good kind. He tried taking his fellow gladiator to unused or completely abandoned parts of Iacon for sparring. But even this could not satiate the anger. Not even when their last sparring match ended with him on the ground with a gaping wound in his side. He had wanted to take that hit, thought it would snap Megatronus to the present.

It didn't.

Alpha Trion had found the broken, exotic mech and nursed him back to health. He confessed of his developing worry to the silent. Confessed of his fear that Megatronus would tear the planet apart if something wasn't resolved soon. He wasn't sure what to do about the whole situation until something clicked in his processor. During the final cycles of the debates, held secret meetings with the High Council. Reminding them of the Covenant of Primus. Arguing that Orion was the foretold of in the Prophecy of the Primes.

Then the cycle finally came when the High Council announced they made a decision. One they claimed would affect the future of Cybertron.

Sentinel Prime reluctantly confessed that his caste system didn't quite work out the way he intended. The High Council admitted Cybertron was headed into a very volatile state of being. The councilmembers also agreed that they needed a new Prime. A new leader that could revitalize this Golden Age and keep it moving forward into an even greater time.

And they elected Orion Pax to be that new leader. They passed on the Matrix of Leadership to the young archivist. The Matrix eager to find a home in its new host, who became the almighty Optimus Prime.

Upon the announcement, Megatronus immediately declared betrayal. All his pent up rage released. And his fighting prowess resuming. He proved it was nothing for him to kill Sentinel Prime with his bare hands. Then he turned upon the rest of the High Council. Slaughtering all except Ratbat and Contrail, who aligned with him. It was then that Megatronus's true nature showed. Shortened his name to Megatron to separate himself from anybot who took on the name of Prime.

Thus, the planet of Cybertron was plunged into a terrible civil war.

Two factions rose up from the turmoil. The Autobots, who followed the newly appointed Optimus Primes. And the Decepticons, who followed the newly declared Megatron. New types of Cybertronians emerged, as well. Seekers, Combiners, and Titans, to name a few.

Brother fought brother, and countless lives were lost.

The planet fell into ruins.

Kryschina was once again caught between the responsibilities of two worlds. Nowhere was safe enough for her botlings. Her love with Megatronus had been shattered. On the cycle of Optimus's coronation, Megatron disowned her. Claimed she had been seeking relations with Orion behind his back. No amount of pleading could get him to see the truth. And every time she was ready to join the Autobots, Megatron came back to her when he was weak and nearly broken. She fixed him up every time. She couldn't help it; she still loved him. He had never laid a hand on her or the botlings.

Unfortunately, Cybetron's inner turmoil did not go unnoticed by the outside universe. An ancient evil awoke with a renewed sense of purpose. Seeking to feed off the chaos of others in distress.

An evil much, much worse than Unicron.

Darkness incarnate settled around the Transformers' planet. A celestial being by the name of Umbra, he assumed a form similar to the inhabitants. He walked among them. Literally soaking in the death, destruction, and malice. Everywhere he stepped, immediate devastation flattened the landscape. And he ravaged the planet more than any of the Cybertronians had. Not only did he take life, he twisted and turned it. Mutilated it beyond recognition.

Fortunately for the Transformer race, Umbra was not the only Celestial being in existence. The physical incarnates of day and night—Lumena and Omne, respectively—had followed the evil darkness across the cosmos and came to the young planet's aid. Together, with the assistance of their equally divine children, they used everything had to drive Umbra back into his dark solitude.

But the damage had already been done.

Both the Autobots and the Decepticons lost severe casualties. The surface of the planet was permanently scarred. Energon became scarce. The Well of Allsparks closed for its own protection. Nobot knew if it would ever reopen. There were rumors that Primus was dying.

If Primus died, Cybertron and its inhabitants would die along with him.

Omne and Lumena wanted to help the best they could, but Cybertron was in a state that other planets destroyed by Umbra had not been in. They didn't need a history lesson to understand the basis of the civil war. It was something they had no place in. Even with their marvelous powers, they could not interfere. To their immortal lifecycles, Cybertron was but an infant. The inhabitants needed to learn how to sort out their problems and unite on their own. They gave their advice. Then they left.

Optimus Prime and Megatron came together only once since the Great War had started. And it was for a short ceremony of mourning. During Umbra's reign of terror, Kryschina had been lost amongst the stars, along with many other Cybertronians.

The twin botlings had been killed.

While this brought the reality of casualties to Megatron, it did not make him seek the peace that Optimus had hoped for. The gladiator's Spark hardened even more. He blamed everything that had went wrong in his life on Optimus, going to the extreme of vowing to destroy the last Prime before his lifecycle ended.

Even if that meant spreading their war to other galaxies and planets.


	10. Chapter 10

**Four million stellar cycles later….**

 **Planet: Earth**

 **Approximately one A.M. in Nevada, United States of America**

Four stealth Comanche helicopters flew through the still darkness of night.

Their black and gray coloration rendered them spotless against the sky, and their silent motors kept them from disturbing any civilians down below. They remained off the radar; their communication to one another was minimal.

The band of special operatives had one mission: go in, eliminate all potential threats, and get out.

Upon reaching the drop off point, the helicopters landed. Each one holding a team of six. Twenty four pairs of soldier boots crunched against sand as they moved into position behind cover as they waited for the series of commands to begin.

"Bravo, this is Alpha. Copy."

"Alpha, this is Bravo. I copy."

"Have the Delta squad set up a perimeter while Charlie squad flanks the door. Your team and mine will go in. Over."

"Understood. Having perimeter set. Over."

The four teams of Special Ops men and women moved from their original cover as noiselessly as their armor allowed. Stealthily moved across the desert, using occasional rocks to reassess their target. There had been no changed since they initially landed, but there would be no room for error. Especially since none of them knew exactly what they were up against.

An unidentifiable aircraft, bigger than a military cargo plane, had crashed almost an hour ago. The crash left the ship completely vertical; its nose buried in the dirt and sand. Smoke roiled into sky. Occasional showers of sparks graced the ground.

It had taken less than thirty minutes for the military to establish a five-mile perimeter around the crash site. At first, the possibility of radiation or another harmful chemical was the reason for precaution. Yet, the ship proved to be clean from malevolent material. However, the large boundary remained to keep out civilians. Even though they were literally in the middle of nowhere, prying eyes would always find a way if not restricted.

This was something the government didn't want to get out across the various forms of media.

The aircraft was obviously of alien origin. Its size alone told it was not from Earth. And the exotic design was bathed in a coating of a silver metallic. Red markings were painted all over the ship's body and four wings. Even if the humans couldn't understand the sigils, it was clearly a form of war paint. An unknown substance of bright blue flecks covered the hull and base of the wings.

Spray patterns that eerily resembled blood splatters.

"Alpha, this is Command Leader. Copy."

"I copy, Command Leader."

"Hold position. Move on my count."

The four teams crouched low, guns at the ready. Some took the time to readjust their night vision to their liking. The rest kept visual contact with the extraterrestrial aircraft.

A vent of steam leaving the ship broke the silence, but they remained still. It would take more than a jump scare to startle them.

Command Leader lifted a pair of binoculars to his eyes. He had a clear view of the situation from his mobile command center perched on a rise about 100 yards out from the crash site. Brought the walkie back to his lips. "On my mark." He glanced over his shoulder.

The officer sitting behind him double checked the screen he was planted firmly in front of. Gave him a thumbs up. Air support was on the way and within range to take evasive action.

He turned back to the scene before him. Bathed in the red and white lights of the panels lining the mobile center. His peripheral vision kept tabs on the monitors to his left, the screens displaying the visuals from a camera attached to Alpha's helmet. "Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Delta, you are clear to engage. I repeat. You are clear to engage."

Without hesitation, the soldiers responded.

Delta moved first. Hand signaling for his team to surround the aircraft and set up their heavy weapons. They were the last team of defense before military aircraft became involved.

Charlie and her team acquired their positions next. They were armed to the teeth with machine guns and automatic rifles. They were responsible for slowing down anything that emerged that wasn't human.

Alpha led his team to the hull, with the Bravo squad in tow. He held up a fist, indicating for everyone to stop.

A serviceman stepped forward. Set up a device which used a laser to cut a hole big enough for the armored operatives to crouch through.

Alpha motioned everyone through the opening, bringing up the rear. Taken aback by the site before them.

Each soldier had frozen at what they saw.

"Alpha, this is Command Leader. What's your status? Over."

Alpha blinked and engaged the walkie strapped to his left shoulder. "We're inside what appears to be a cockpit. Uh, sir…there, there seems to be a giant robot in what I assume is the pilot's seat. Are you getting this? Over."

"Yes, the feed is good. Focus in on the object in question." A pause filled with static. "Good Lord…."

Despite the dim interior, a clearly seen robot did, indeed, sit in the pilot seat. Slumped over a sparking and flickering control panel.

The pair of teams turned off their night vision and enabled their military-grade LED flashlights. Bright blue beams of light flooded the inside of the alien ship. Many raised their flashlights upwards to see how high the cockpit went. However, the interior of the aircraft proved to be one giant, open space. And it seemed to go on forever.

The vessel groaned, lurching and settling further into the desert.

"Alpha, this is Command Leader. What's going on in there? Over."

After making sure the others regained their footing and no one got lodged in the craft's debris, Alpha directed his light to the multi-story robot. Which still hadn't moved. "Command Leader, this is Alpha. We're fine. No activity from the machine. Whatever it is, it seems to be dead. Over."

The special operatives moved about the cockpit area, sweeping for anything resembling alarms. Checking for any signs of life. A few moved to the robot itself. One decided to poke what he assumed to be a leg with the barrel of his gun.

A specialized blast emitted from the motionless robot.

All of the lights immediately turned off. Including the control panel. Everything was plunged in total darkness.

"Switch to night vision," Alpha yelled. But their goggles showed to be useless as well. In the dark took a whole new meaning. He kept his body still, listening for the slightest sounds. While he didn't hear anything move, he felt the thick air being disturbed. "Oh, sh—"

Two bright silver orbs emerged from the darkness, far above the humans below.

"Open fire!"

A dozen assault rifles blasted away. Sending short bursts of primitive light. Briefly silhouetting the carnage that followed.

One by one, the Earthlings were picked off. They may have been in the dark, but their attacker was not. The sounds of fluid splatter and squashed bodies mixed with gunfire and screams.

Then there was unnerving silence.

The ship's control panel stuttered back to life, revealing Alpha to be the only surviving human. He swallowed. Searched the remains of his fallen comrades. Blood and guts littered the interior of the craft. Splashed against the walls, robot, and against him. Exposed bone peeked out from cracked armor. Armor that had no chance of protecting them.

"Alpha, this is Command Leader. I can see what happened. Get of there."

"With all due respect, sir, I will die with my men. My friends."

"That was not a suggestion, soldier!"

The surviving serviceman titled his head up to view the sentient alien machinery. It didn't possess any type of distinct facial features, but he could feel its intense gaze boring into his soul. Even if he was powerless against this machine, he would not let his friends die in vain. He pointed his assault rifle and squeezed the trigger.

Bullets flew. All of them hit their giant target that was clearly illuminated by the glowing control panel. Yet, not a single one even scratched the slate gray body.

He held the trigger until his ammo was extinguished. Threw the gun off to the side. He knew how this was going to end.

The robot reached out an arm and grasped the tiny human by his head. Studied him for some time, as if trying to learn how he was designed and what would be the optimal way to kill him. Two other stiletto fingers came up, grasped the man's legs. Pulled the head and spine free from the body before discarding of the bloody remains. Crushed the skull between its fingers.

Its gaze flickered to the small hole that had been made in its ship. It could sense the others that waited outside.

"Charlie, this is Command Leader. Alpha and Bravo have been killed. Prepare your team. Over."

Charlie whirled around to yell out orders, but her voice was drowned out by the robot smashing through the ship's weakened hull. The Delta team didn't need to wait for a command, as they joined in defenses with Charlie. High-powered guns, rifles, and even missile launchers barraged the intruder.

But not a single one did any damage.

In fact, this only enraged the robot. It looked down. Easily crushing many of the fleshy pests under its feet. Swept its sharp fingers across the still-living, slicing some in two. The rest it merely threw aside with enough force, the humans died upon impact with rocks and hard sand.

Then it looked up.

A formation of five fighter jets barreled down on the otherworldly aircraft.

It emerged on the tail of its ship, holding on with one arm, half dangling off the wrecked structure. Analyzed the incoming human jets.

The jets locked on target, launching missiles.

But the robot merely kept its placing. Not even bothering to move. Took all the hits in a great cloud of smoke.

Once the smoke cleared, it was gone.

The pilots frantically searched radar and what they could see out of their cockpit windows. However, the robot had vanished. Cloaked itself from all forms of detection.

Until it landed on top of one of the fighter jets. Ripping off one of the wings, it rode the human machine down into the ground. Threw the removed wing into one of the other fighters. Which sent the second aircraft damaged to crash in the midst of an explosion.

It faced the remaining three.

The trio of fighter jets created a wide circle around the alien being. Discharged everything they had.

Even still, the robot remained un-phased. It clambered back up to the top of its grounded spaceship. Propelled itself off as a spinning javelin. Grabbed the nearest craft, somersaulted, and smashed it onto the desert floor. Once again climbed to its perch. It stared down one of the jets.

As soon as the human pilot faltered in his craft, the sentient machine struck. Leaping, it snatched the military jet out of the air. Spun with it and hurled it against the last one. Watched the newly joined pair plummet to the earth in front of a small structure on a dune.

Silver orbs examined the construction. It was satisfied with destruction of the Earthling aircrafts. But it could sense signals being sent from the little metal command center. This was something it would not brook.

Though, if more of these fleshy creatures came, it would slaughter them again.

And again.

No matter how many times it needed to.

Turning back to its spaceship, the alien robot transformed its right hand into a giant cannon. Fired straight into the air.

The energy blast arced on its path downwards. Landing squarely on the command center, causing it to erupt in flames and pieces.

The robot stopped at the hole it had created after bursting through the hull of its ship. Took a quick, last survey of the devastation it caused. And saw that it was good.


	11. Chapter 11

_*_ Author's Note: Even though I know all of you are smart enough to figure out a simple formatting choice, I just wanted to specify that Bumblebee's dialogue is italicized and put in between asterisks. Of course, to human ears, it still sounds like a series of beeps and other sounds, but the Transformers understand him. So it seems fit to give him his own dialogue. Especially to keep the story flowing smoothly. Thank you, guys!

* * *

 _"_ _Prime!"_

Optimus lifted his helm from the in-development communication device Ratchet had been experimenting with and explaining to him. He turned to face the bearer of the loud call. "What can I do for you, Agent Fowler?

The dark-skinned human marched over from the door leading to the top of the base and placed his hands on the railing above the base floor. So he could be at eye level with the Transformers. "Are all you Autobots deaf and blind?"

The blue and red mech passed his bright blue optics over their small base. His four followers seemed just as confused about the question as he. His gaze returned to their guest. "I'm sorry, but I do not follow your implication."

"A vessel has landed in Nevada. A freaking spaceship, to be exact, and you didn't receive any kind of alarm?"

Ratchet's metal brows furrowed as he moved to their computer and hit a few keys. "Our alarms haven't been activated. It wasn't picked up by our radars."

Fowler threw up his hands and paced a small circle. "That spaceship had a giant robot inside that killed over twenty five special operatives. And you're telling me you picked up nothing?"

The medic huffed. "Yes, that is what I'm telling you. If you don't believe me, you can come look for yourself."

The human waved a hand. "Cool it. I sent you the video feed from one of the operative's helmet cam. Assuming you at least received that, I would like you to watch it."

Optimus gave a nod.

Ratchet frowned at Fowler's tone, but he typed in a few more commands into the computer as Arcee, Bulkhead, and Bumblebee gathered around the screen to watch. He hit the final key to play the footage.

The screen lit up with the late serviceman's video.

All the Autobots watched with rapt attention, listening to the audio as the human teams took their positions. Leaned closer when the foreign spaceship came into view.

Arcee pointed a tapering finger at the red paint decorating the craft. "I think there's Cybertronian mixed in with the designs. But it's so fluid, I can't make out what it says."

Optimus stayed quiet. There was Cybertronian painted with the designs. He could read it. The words boasted of a high number of kills and which bots were still on the hit list. Some names he recognized, and some names he had never heard of before.

Bumblebee's signature beeps emerged. _*I don't think I've ever seen a ship designed like that.*_

Bulkhead crossed his arms. "That's because it's hand-made. Somebot scraped a bunch of other ships and built this of their own accord. It's basically a junker."

They fell silent again when the humans in the footage discovered the robot.

"That's…" Ratchet tilted himself even closer to the screen. "That's a basic form. Similar to a newly-given protoform. Or its armor is designed to resemble that. Though, I couldn't tell you why."

Fowler rested his elbows on the railing. "Can you tell if it's friend or foe?"

Ratchet scoffed. "I can't even tell if it's a femme or a mech. So that answer is no."

In the video, the blast emitted, plunging the feed into darkness.

Arcee's helm snapped to Optimus. "There's only a few 'Cons that we know can do that, and we know where they currently all are."

"What is this thing?" Bulkhead mumbled.

Agent Fowler hung his head in solemn reverence when the carnage began to play.

The Autobots, with the exception of Prime, gasped at the human horrors when the light of the control panel returned to brighten the camera's recording.

Bumblebee indicated to the unknown robot's silver orbs. _*Does anybot have optics like those?*_

Ratchet shook his helm. "Not that I've ever seen. And I've been around a lot longer than you."

They turned away when Alpha's head was ripped from his body.

The sole human in the Autobot base rubbed his face with both hands and heavily sighed. "After this first encounter, the robot then took out two more special operative teams and five fighter jets in a matter of minutes."

Arcee's hands went to her hips. "That's ruthless. Even for a 'Con. Are we sure this thing is Cybertronian?"

Optimus finally broke his silence. "Ratchet rewind the feed. Freeze it there." His keen optics studied the image on the screen. The helm of the robot was in perfect view as it had picked up Alpha. He realized the lack of features was a deliberate act. But why hide its identity? "Agent Fowler, where is this robot now?"

Fowler straightened. "Still with its ship. Still in its original crash location. It won't move, and I won't let anymore humans near it until you guys deal with the crazy machine. Our weapons have no effect on it, and I'm not keen on dropping a nuke. I'm hoping you'll bring a less deadly option to the table."

The blue and red mech stared at the screen for a few more nanocycles. "I promise you we'll do what we can."

The human gave a nod. "Ratchet will have the coordinates for a ground bridge."

"No." The Prime's tone was resolute. "It's not far from here. We'll drive. I don't want to give it premature access to our base. Bumblebee, Bulkhead, Arcee, roll out. Ratchet, I want you to remain here and cross reference that image against our databases. See if you can provide us with any information."

The medic nodded. "I'll be more than happy to. But, Optimus, please be careful. This thing has the potential to tear you all apart."

Optimus remained wordless. He knew Ratchet's statements were true. Even though the feed had been black during the humans' destruction, he could tell the robot was quick, precise. Most likely, it was the result of rigid training. Meaning there was no saying how much skill this warrior actually possessed. If this was a real warrior.

Part of him wondered if this was a new experiment of Shockwave's.

Yet, this new robot boasted no badge. The Decepticons were proud of themselves. If this was a Shockwave creation, it would be clearly identified as a Decepticon. Autobots respected innocent life on all planets. At least, that was what he hoped for his troop. However, he had yet to see one of his Autobots slaughter like this invader had done.

He pondered Arcee's question. Was it Cybertronian? If not, then what? The humans were far from producing this kind of technology. His processor flickered back to the age of the Quintessons, but he shook his helm to rid himself of the thoughts. Still, the most basic form of armor this robot was clad in hinted back to the era of when the Quintessons had Cybertron enslaved. Protoform-like, as Ratchet had put it.

"Optimus?"

The medic's concerned inquiry brought the last Prime's processor back to the present. A quick scan of the base informed him the other three Autobots had already left. "Search the databases, Ratchet. Be on standby in case I call. Agent Fowler, I want you to stay away from this fight. Let us handle this one."

Both Ratchet and Fowler weren't pleased with this new development, but they conceded to the leader's commands.

Prime glanced between the two before inclining his helm. Effortlessly transformed into his semi-truck alternate form and drove out.

Arcee led Bumblebee and Bulkhead down a dark, desert highway. "Is Prime really not coming with us?"

Bumblebee chimed in first, not wanting anybot to think that Optimus wouldn't help. _*He'll get here when he can. He wouldn't leave us to fight this thing alone.*_

Bulkhead agreed. "Bee's right. Prime is just most likely arguing with Ratchet over whether the old bot can come along or not."

Bumblebee chuckled. _*Or Agent Fowler. Both of them are stubborn and would argue with Optimus.*_

The Wrecker laughed. "You are right, there. Though, I'm not sure what the point is in arguing with Prime. He generally knows what he's doing."

 _*I don't think I've ever seen him be wrong.*_

Arcee shushed them both as she pulled up behind a rock grouping and transformed. Waited for the pair of mechs to do the same. Kept her voice low. "We're here. Stay alert and quiet."

The alien spaceship sat just a thousand feet away. Surrounded by smoking debris still on fire. What was left of the small human resistance. The robot responsible was nowhere in sight.

Bumblebee glanced at Bulkhead, shifting nervously.

The femme scanned the area. "I'm not picking up anything."

Bulkhead peered over the cluster of rocks they used as a shield. "Neither am I. Where is it? I thought Fowler said it was still here."

The yellow and black scout happened to look over his shoulder behind them. Screeched a warning.

The other two whirled around, weapons at the ready.

There stood the slate gray robot. Motionless. With one hip cocked tauntingly to the side.

Bulkhead stepped forward first, hitting his fists together as a challenge. "If you're a 'Bot, we can do this the easy way. If you're a 'Con, we can do this the hard way. Choice is yours."

The robot, who was a helm taller than Bumblebee and no more than half the weight of the Wrecker, shifted its right hand into a long blade.

"Hard way it is, then." Unleashing his signature battle cry, he rushed forward.

The unidentified alien stayed still until the last nanocycle. Vaulted itself into a front flip over the Wrecker's head. Slicing off both of his fists in the process.

Bulkhead cried out as he stumbled to the ground. Bright blue energon pouring from his nubs.

Arcee and Bumblebee advanced without hesitation. They fired their hand cannons rapidly. Moving to flank the robot on each side.

This meant nothing to the robot. It dodge the blasts instinctively. Headed straight for the motorcycle. It came on full-force to the femme, smashing its helm against hers.

The blue and pink femme faltered, stepping back a few paces. She tried clearing her processor, but she wasn't fast enough. Before she could assess what was happening, the back of her left knee was shattered inward, sending her to the sand in calls of pain. A blade entered her left side. Then she was tossed against Bulkhead.

Bumblebee bolted for the unwanted visitor.

The robot once again waited until the last nanocycle. Twirled to the right and out of the way while transforming both hands into cannons. Shot the smaller mech in the back.

The young scout flew forward, his face plates skidding into the desert.

It shoved a hard foot into his back. Grabbed the pair of doors that looked like fake wings and ripped them out, tossing them to the side.

Another player arrived on the battlefield.

Drifting sideways, Optimus transformed to bot mode without stopping. Using the momentum to sprint into action. Both of his hands were his infamous cannons, and his face plate armor was engaged. "Enough!"

The robot pivoted, turning its back on the trio it had just defeated. Slowly straightened. Its blade retracted. But its awed gaze never left the last of the Primes.

Optimus searched his warriors. Let his optics meet the striking silver ones of the unknown. It didn't attack him. Why? Why did it appear to recognize him? He didn't know the silver optics, and those were not a pair a bot would forget.

Bulkhead staggered to his feet. With a grunt, he slammed his helm into the back of the robot's while it was stunned by Optimus's presence. Watched it fall unconscious to the desert floor. Offered a lopsided grin to his leader.

The blue and red Prime put away his pair of cannons and disengaged his lower fascia mask. Activated the comm on the side of his blue helm. "Ratchet, we need that ground bridge. And your medical assistance."


	12. Chapter 12

She opened her optics. Everything around her a blur. It took abnormally long for her vision to adjust. Why? Where was she? She looked behind her. Rolling her helm, she tried moving her arms, but she was restrained by oversized chains. She snapped her helm to the rest of her viewing area.

It was a desolate place. One of sorrow, regret, despair. A place filled with nothing but black stone covered in unknown liquids, possibly tainted energon. A place she knew all too well.

Her optics focused on the dark smoke roiling toward her. She steeled herself, but her Spark quickened its pace. Broadened her stance as much as the bindings allowed. Which only caused them to dig into her armor.

The thick fog swirled and lurched until it revealed a tall mech clad in the blackest of armor. Spikes rose from his shoulders and helm. His silver face plates appeared quite handsome, but they hid a dark Spark. Red optics glittered with excitement. A devilish smile overcame his fascia.

She snarled at him, but she knew she was trapped.

His hauntingly attractive voice echoed through the barren landscape blanketed with his smoke. "My champion. How have you been?" He ran a talon of a finger under the outline of her helm. "It's been some time since you powered down last."

She pulled her helm away. "Of course. Because why would I want to visit you?"

He clucked in distaste as his finger ran down her neck. Stopped at her permanent scar right above her chest plates. "So. How have you been?"

"Why do you care?"

"Because, despite your defiance, you are still mine." He pressed his finger into the middle of her scar, sending sharp pain through her circuits. "And I do care about my property."

Her optics flashed as she sucked rancid air down her vocal processor.

His optics lifted to view her reaction, pleased. "You know, it's funny. They thought they could keep me from interfering with you. Oh, how they were wrong. I may not be able to harm you physically, but they mentioned nothing about your processor. And this kind of torment, well, in my opinion, is far, far worse." He stabbed her further.

Try as she might, she couldn't keep herself from crying out and writhing underneath the chains."

He released a low chuckle. "It's not like I bother you that much. Only when you power down. Do they know? Have you run to them to tell on me? Hmm?"

Her metal lips curled, and she closed her optics to squeeze out the burning sensation he caused. She grunted. "No."

"No? Aw, that's too bad. Don't want to worry the good and perfect bots with your problems, do we? And you do have a lot of problems. Do you think you'll ever tell on me?"

She could only be honest. "Probably not."

"Oh? Why not?"

"Because…" Another grunt. "I'm not worth their time."

"Well, that is true. But that just means more fun time for me. You can't defeat me on your own." He abruptly grabbed her chin, yanking her helm so she would be forced to look at him. "You smell of Earth. Now that's a fun planet. Humans have been absolutely entertaining since the dawn of their existence."

"They're pests."

His glowing optics glimmered again. "And why is that?"

She grimaced. "They shot me. I killed them. I would kill them all over again. They're mindless creatures easily squashed."

"Good. Don't you dare grow attached to them. I've been needing an excuse to return to that planet, and you're my perfect ticket. So, wakey, wakey. You have a new assignment."

Her optics flickered to him as he released her from his cold grasp. Braced herself when the chains vanished into tendrils of smoke. "I am not destroying a whole planet. Especially not for you."

He grinned his evil smile again. "Oh, my powerful warrior, you will. You absolutely will. Even if it takes time. But I'm immortal, so what do I care? I have time. I'll have fun watching you on the flipside." He brought both arms forward, enveloping the femme in agonizing black fog. Maniacally laughing.

She was plunged into a void of darkness and pain. The echoes of his laughter drowning out her screams. Falling for what seemed an eternity, she finally slammed against an ebony wall of glowing red optics.

* * *

The slate gray robot startled awake, thrashing against the chamber it was held in. It had been induced into a panic attack. Vision hazy and processor pounding.

"Whoa," an older voice exclaimed. "Optimus, we have a situation!"

It turned to the source of the stifled voice. Barely making out what he said. Its silver optics focusing and un-focusing as it fought for clear sight. Though, it thought it deciphered a white and red mech.

"Optimus, please hurry. The machine is awake."

The robot tilted its helm. Machine? What machine? It was no machine. Who were these bots? Why did they have it locked in a cage? It paused. Assessing the partially clear chamber. What it could sense as transparent.

Vision was still a problem.

It placed a hand on what it assumed was the clear, thinner material. Slender digits caressing the surface. This part of the holding chamber did feel more vulnerable. And it could move its limbs freely; it wasn't completely restrained. Although the chamber wasn't too spacious, there would be enough room to build up a solid hit.

The muffled voice of the outside mech called out again.

The robot's optics rapidly focused and unfocused once more. Still no satisfying results. No matter. It heaved a shoulder against the chamber side. Again and again. Harder and harder. Until the transparent part of the chamber shattered, and it stumbled out of its cage.

Steadying itself, it kept its helm on a swivel. Everything continuing to be a blur. To its right, it identified forms of black, yellow, blue, and pink. Ahead was a large impression of green and black.

Movement to its left. A blue and red form.

Optimus strode directly up to the disoriented robot. "I will give you one chance to explain who you are and why you're here."

The protoform-like robot kept its silver gaze on the form. The new voice sounded familiar. Its vision slowly cleared. After a few more nanocycles, it recognized the last Prime standing before it. Dropped to one knee. It went to speak, but no voice surfaced.

The blue and red mech observed the unidentified machine. This robot seemed different than a mindless killer. And he felt like there was more to it than presented.

It felt where its vocal processor was protected behind slate gray armor. Tilted its helm and felt its face plates. It was in basic form? This was bizarre. Why had it defaulted? Wasn't there an attack before the flesh creatures disturbed it…?

"Can you understand me?" Optimus pressed.

Ratchet stayed behind the towering mech. Safely viewing from his living shield. Kept his voice low. "I don't think it can."

The robot gave a nod. Focused on changing its appearance. It painstakingly transformed from a featureless machine into a rather large yet lithe femme. Her varying shades of gray coloring and silver optics remaining intact. Though she still wore no badge.

The medic moved forward at this point. Stumbling over his words. "You…you're a femme!"

She crossed her arms, finally able to fully function. Tone dripping with sarcasm. "No. What gave it away?"

Optimus's expression had not changed. "You still have yet to answer my questions. I ask again. Who are you, and why are you here?"

Her optics shifted to him. Body language stiffening in concern. "I don't have a name. They just refer to me as a rogue. I'm honestly not sure why I'm here."

Ratchet snorted. "Well, isn't this lovely?"

Optimus turned to his old friend to silence him. "Your ship crashed. Are you aware of your violent landing?"

She blanked. Optics moving back and forth as she searched memories. Somewhat straightened. Dropped her arms. Then reassumed her stance. "I think I was hit by an enemy. I must've been inside this planet's gravitational pull. My craft took damage, and I crashed, I guessed."

This didn't please the medic. He folded his arms in turn. "Who do you consider your enemy? Which side are you on? Seeing as you don't sport an identifying badge."

"Neither." Her weight shifted to one leg. Accenting her defined hips. "I find it works better for survival that way."

Ratchet turned to the Prime. "Are we really going to harbor this…this rogue here? She slaughtered innocent humans. Almost killed our teams."

"Hey." She took a step forward. "Those fleshy creatures invaded my ship and shot me first. And I didn't 'almost kill' those bots. I simply shamed them in a physical way."

The white and red mech backed away from reach, but he wasn't done with his verbal barrage. "You think you can—"

"That is quite enough," Optimus interjected. He stepped between the two. "While I do not agree with the taking of innocent life, I—"

"They weren't innocent," the new femme exclaimed. "They invaded _my_ ship. They struck first."

Prime turned to her. "As true as that may be, the humans function quite differently than us. If you wish to stay here, you'll have to learn their customs and behaviors. Earth is their planet. We are the intruders here."

She scoffed. "I have no need to stay here."

"It won't be long before the Decepticons detect your presence. With your ship damaged, it will be some time before you can leave."

"I'm not scared of Decepticons. I've removed my fair share from the playing field. But your argument about my ship stands. Both you and the fleshlings have made it clear that I can't stay in my craft in peace."

Optimus inclined his helm. "I can have your ship moved to our base. You can repair it in the solitary of an unused storage room. When you're finished, you can leave."

Ratchet's optics shot to his leader. "You can't be serious."

The Prime continued. "I have offered my peace. Shall you choose to accept it then betray us, there will be consequences."

The unaligned shrugged a shoulder. "We won't have a problem if I'm left alone. Like I said, I claim loyalty to neither side. Respect me, and I'll respect you."

Ratchet shook his helm. "Optimus, please. Reconsider. This will cause us nothing but trouble."

Optimus continued ignoring his medic. "For the time being, what do you wish us to call you?"

She locked optics with the old healer long enough to make him uncomfortable. "Oh, I don't know. I guess what everybot else refers to me as is fine. Call me Rogue."


	13. Chapter 13

Soundwave flew in silent drone mode back to the Decepticon warship. Back to Megatron's command, where he could report what he had recorded.

He had gone to the crash site before his leader could ask it of him. He knew his job description, and it wasn't hard to figure out what he needed to do. An unidentified Cybertronian ship crashed on Earth. Identify it. Simple.

However, that's where the problem laid.

There was no identification.

He had arrived before the humans. Kept himself cloaked. So, he had brief time to examine the craft. Even though none was used in the construction of it. It had been crudely fashioned from the scraps of other ships. Materials once used by both Autobots and Decepticons. And thrown together rather quickly. Most likely during one of the War's peaks.

Energon was splattered along the hull. If the pilot used the ship to plow through enemies, that would be considered quite brutal. But not necessarily a Decepticon-only tactic. The Autobots weren't always the saints Optimus Prime liked to portray them to be.

The wordless assassin had to abandon the ship before he could acquire an energon sample for Shockwave. He knew an altercation with a human force of such a size that arrived would only draw too much attention. He had been there as strictly recon. He had stayed in the shadows. And watched.

When the robot first emerged, he couldn't help but tilt his helm. It was in basic form. Reminiscent of a new botling. Just a protoform. However, this only baffled him for a brief nanocycle. Because it still meant no badge and no proper identification.

But the way it slaughtered the humans without hesitation…. Clearly a Decepticon approach as Cons didn't care for indigenous species. Optimus drilled into every Autobot processor they needed to preserve all life. Yet. It didn't kill the three Bots sent to investigate it. Knelt when the Prime appeared. A Con would never kneel to the Autobot leader if their Sparks depended on it.

Contradictions. Too many of them.

The Nemesis loomed into view.

Soundwave immediately spied Starscream waiting for him on deck. He landed with less flair than the Seeker, but he brought his arms down a little slower than normal. Flexing his stiletto fingers.

Starscream paid no heed to the warnings as he approached. Heels clicking and flanked on either side by two of his winged servants. "Megatron is busy. You'll need to report to me."

The former gladiator knew otherwise.

"Shall I take your silence as cooperation?"

He marched past in typical, quiet fashion. Forcefully shouldering the annoyance out of his way.

Starscream stumbled back with a gasp. "Really, Soundwave? Is this how you're going to treat your superior? I should have you reprimanded."

The communications officer whirled around, grabbing the Seeker by the throat and lifting him off his feet. Slammed him down to his back on the deck. Towered over him with twitching fingers.

The lieutenant went to call his guards but paused. There was armor missing from the other's chest plates. His red optics searched the area. Slightly rolled over to look behind him.

A minicon hovered with a surprisingly menacing appearance, despite having no face plates.

"Ah. Laserbeak. You've been recording the entire time, haven't you?" His optics flickered back to the silent.

Soundwave tilted his helm enough to indicate a nod. Called his minicon back to him. When Laserbeak folded and reattached to his chest armor, he pivoted. Left the Seeker in his embarrassing position on the flight deck.

He knew the minions wouldn't attack even if Starscream commanded it. They would've only stood in place, stupefied by the request for aid. Many of them had seen enough of their brothers assassinated to know not to mess with the exotic mech.

Starscream was the only one he wasn't allowed to kill.

This fact bothered him more than it should. Megatron had come close to taking Starscream's Spark numerous times. Why not finish the job? The lieutenant wasn't loyal, caused too much infighting, abandoned the cause on more than one occasion, constantly plotted against Megatron. And that was only the tip of the list.

Even Shockwave agreed Starscream's presence was illogical. Yet, Megatron chose to keep his traitorous second in command alive. And around.

Soundwave passed noiselessly through the dim corridors of the Nemesis. Memory guiding him through the many levels and lifts.

The only thing to ever make sense to him was Megatron saw the Seeker as a game. As a pawn needing to be moved back and forth, knocked off the holographic board, and recaptured to only serve its menial purpose. And his leader took too much enjoyment from it.

Gladiator mentality. It had to be it. Nothing else made sense. Yes, he understood a gladiator's processor, but at the same cycle, they weren't in an arena anymore.

The Pits were an almost forgotten relic of the past. The War was present. He never once questioned his leader's command, but he had always wondered if Megatron's processor had never left the underground fighting. It was the only thing that ever explained his sudden falling out with Kryschina.

He entered the equally ill-lit command deck, noting Megatron staring at the main viewing screen with hands clasped behind his back.

The leader of the Decepticons looked over his shoulder armor. "Soundwave, you've returned. What information do you bring to me?"

The communications officer approached his designated control panel. Plugged into it with a snaking tentacle. Played the footage he recorded.

Megatron watched with rapt attention. A smile slowly growing as the film finished. He fully turned back toward the viewing screen and main window. Kept his hands behind his back. His inside hand forming a fist. "What do you make of this, Soundwave?"

He stepped to his commander's side. Crossed his slender arms. In all honesty, he wasn't sure what to make of it. Too much was left in the air. Not enough information to adequately support any running theories.

"Of all the loose cannons Optimus has employed, this one is by far the worst. Assuming this new piece is a fully sentient Cybertronian. It may be an experiment in an attempt to get ahead in the War. Which might explain the silver optics."

Soundwave gave a slight nod. It wasn't a bad speculation. Though, he wasn't sure if Optimus had the circuits to spear such experiments, sentient machine or not. Still. Not a terrible hypothesis.

Megatron looked at his long-time comrade. "See if you can pinpoint a unique signature for it. If it leaves the Autobot base, I want to know about it. I want this machine. For questioning and for study. Also, send the footage to Shockwave for study. I have a feeling this robot is going to be interesting."

Another nod, and he returned to his station. Fingers ticking at the holographic keyboard. This new player did have a unique signature. As did every bot. And it was Cybertronian, so it being a Quintesson was out of the picture. Not that a Quintesson would kneel to a Prime, regardless.

Yet, there was an indecipherable code in the robot's signature. One which was fluid and ever-changing. One he found far more than strange.

He paused his typing.

Changing code wasn't new to him. In fact, he had written many. But it was the way the code transformed. As if it wasn't code at all but a conscious life separate from the robot. He had heard of organic material being intertwined with machines, but it had yet to be seen. Shockwave hadn't even perfected the union.

His fingers resumed as he kept his helm still. However, his optics weren't focused on the screen in front of him. They were focused on the inside of his visor. Such he did when deep in his processor.

Another reason he favored the visor. He could look anywhere he wanted, and no bot would be the wiser.

The base form robot's optics unnerved him. Something that shouldn't happen. Ever. Especially when there was a brief moment the machine seemed to stare directly at him. He had been cloaked, completely invisible. Could it really see him? It sent electricity through his circuits. In a bad way. All of his cycles of gladiatorial training forgotten because of a pair of unusual optics.

A forefinger tapped too hard and cracked the station plate under the floating keys.

He glanced down, inwardly sighing. Before he could think about it further, a mech entered the bridge. His helm rotated just enough so he could see over his shoulder armor.

Starscream waltzed in with normal regal fashion, a pleased expression on his fascia. Though, he was no longer escorted by his pair of guards. "I come with a good report, Megatron."

The Decepticon leader pivoted, crossing his arms in front of his large chest plates. "I doubt it."

This didn't deter the Seeker from strutting right up to his fearless leader. "Our latest mine has increased production by twenty seven percent."

One of Megatron's thick metal brows rose. "This is supposed to impress me?"

"Well…yes?"

"Think again, Starscream. Unless your processor is too small."

The lieutenant frowned as he huffed. "I assumed efficiency would be to your liking. I suppose not."

"Maybe if you told me production increased to ninety seven percent, I would have a more positive response." With both brows lifted in disdain, he turned his back on him and began playing the footage once more.

Starscream's hands balled at his sides. "Well, I'll have you know Soundwave—"

Megatron whirled around with a loud, heavy step forward, startling the vehicons at their stations. "What about Soundwave?"

He lifted his hands in defense. Glanced at the occupied communication station. "He came back with his report. That was all I was going to say."

The Decepticon leader pointed behind him. "Yes. He already informed me of his findings. You are dismissed, Starscream. Before you say something that will get you killed."

Soundwave glanced up. If only.

The Seeker glared, but he kept his mouth in check as he spun on his heel.

Megatron looked at Soundwave for several nanocycles before addressing his second in command once again. "Actually, I do have a mission for you."

Starscream hesitated. "Yes?"

"Transport a batch of Energon big enough to get the Autobots' attention. I want them lured out of their base."

"And where am I supposed to transport this batch, exactly?"

"Coordinate with Soundwave. I want a trap set, and I want the new robot. Soundwave has been figuring out how to track its signature." He smiled in a way that made Starscream's circuits tremble. "Consider it a good faith mission."

The Seeker looked at the communications officer with a disgusted yet frightened expression.

Soundwave drilled the other, even if his visor blocked his face plates. Part of him wanted to rip Starscream's wings off and send him to a random location. Part of him wanted to trap him in the mine, where he could personally dismember him. Part of him wanted to reach through his chest and pull out his Spark in front of everybot present. But Megatron had a plan, so he would have to play nice. For now.


	14. Chapter 14

Rogue walked into the back hangar of the Autobots' headquarters she still didn't know the location of. Optimus had made her stay in a storage room until her spaceship had been fully delivered. Something about not frightening the human who brought it. But what was the fun in that?

Regardless, she complied. Didn't want to upset the last Prime.

She had seen him work before. Seen him in action when fighting the Decepticons on Cybertron. He wasn't exactly ruthless, but wasn't exactly nice, either. There was no denying the skills the Prime possessed. As soon of those faceplates slid into place, it was the cycle for business. And she wasn't keen on facing him one-on-one.

Her optics surveyed what was left of her ship. At least, of what a very angry human brought to the Bot center. Of course, she didn't see this fleshling fascia to fascia, but she could hear him. Even from the very back of the base.

He yelled about the "Transformer who killed too many men, and they were all my men." Her optics rolled. That flesh creature only carried on about half the story.

For now, she focused on her craft. Which honestly dampened her Spark. She released a sigh and shifted her weight.

The spaceship suffered severe damaged. Not from the human attack but from the crash itself. Especially since it landed nose first. And she was sure some damage came from whatever initially caused her crash. Seeing how there was old energon flecked upon it, and she didn't know how it got there.

She still didn't know how or why she ended up on Earth. It wasn't her initial course. What had been her course? Where was she originally heading? Shifting her weight again, she crossed her arms. There was one bot who could help her processor remember, but she really didn't want to go through the torture of powering down.

Rogue snarled and kicked the salvage of her craft. This was going to take a long time to fix. And require more parts than what she had seen around this barren place. Even these Bots' energon reserves were low. However, she didn't feel sorry for them. They had clearly made their choices and stuck with whatever consequences.

Cybertron could be taken back. Even if the Decepticons technically had control over it at the cycle. But the Cons were nothing to be scared of. Take out Megatron, and all the others went into a frenzy trying to place themselves as leader. It was easy to kill those under chaos.

They could use her ship to return to their home planet, but she still needed unavailable parts. And she had a sneaking suspicion the Bots weren't letting her out of the base. She could send them on the parts-retrieving errands. No. Because there was a high calculation they wouldn't return with the right parts.

Especially since her craft was one hundred percent custom. Built from the ground up with whatever she could scrounge up from the leftovers of battles.

There was simply no other way to go about repairing her craft. She would have to convince them to let her leave. An easy argument would be: the sooner she could get her ship finished, the sooner she would be out of their helms.

She stalked the tall corridors of the base. Stopping right outside the main chamber, curious to hear what they were saying. She could care less whether or not they liked her. She preferred that bots not like her. Kept things simpler.

Still didn't mean she wasn't curious. She peered around the corner of the stone-like wall.

Ratchet moved from patient to patient to patient. Waving around a small data pad, his voice the loudest now. "That thing nearly killed us all. Our three best warrior are locked in their processors because of that thing."

The fleshling leaned over a railing on a level nearly as high as Optimus's chest plates. "Well, it killed all of mine!"

Optimus remained silent, observing the two speaking.

"Do you know how hard it is trying to repair three bots at once with as limited resources as we have?" The medic mech again.

"At least you have soldiers to repair. Do you know how hard it is to move people through differentiating security clearances? The process to get them trained? That thing took away years of work."

Rogue inaudibly sighed. This conversation needed some work. She entered the main area, assuming the most foreboding tone her vocal processor would allow. "You do know that thing has a name, don't you?"

Agent Fowler straightened and stepped back with wide eyes at the slate-colored robot before him.

Ratchet clamped his mouth shut and tended to his wounded. Occasionally stealing glances at the unknown femme.

The Prime's unwavering blue gaze transferred to the newcomer. Watching her with great intent, in case he needed to intervene.

Fowler somewhat overcame himself and blinked. His hands returned to the railing. "You're…you're the silver-eyed robot who killed all my men and women."

Rogue smirked, sauntering her way over and bending at the waist to get up close and personal with the fleshling. She could tell she made him nervous, and he wasn't used to feeling nervous. "Were you the one who gave the order to attack me and my ship? Perhaps I need to kill you, too."

Ratchet looked over his shoulder armor again, but Optimus hadn't moved.

The human blinked again. "I didn't give any orders to kill. Only to investigate."

"So your soldiers acted on their own free will, then?"

"I would assume so."

"Then I took care of the problem. I was attacked; I defended myself. Do you still have any problems?"

Agent Fowler's mouth went agape, and he turned to the leader of the Autobots. "Prime, you better start putting your Bots on a leash."

Optimus finally spoke. "She claims to be neither Autobot nor Decepticon."

The fleshling hung his head. "This is just perfect. A rogue Transformer has decided to grace the earth."

Rogue rose a metal brow as she straightened. "If I'm left alone, I won't kill anybody else."

Fowler pointed a finger at her. "I don't think you understand the rules of this planet, and all humans pretty much have a shoot first, ask questions later. And not many like the sight of giant robots they don't understand."

"Good. Then we're somewhat similar." She quickly extended a hand blade and whipped it to his head without touching him. Taking delight in watching him cringe. "But I suggest you get better weapons and armor."

Optimus stepped forward. "Rogue, back off."

Her silver optics flickered to him. She retracted her blade and flexed her pointed fingers when they reappeared. "Very well." She walked back to the doorway, leaning against the corner.

The human straightened himself and cracked his neck. "Don't you think she would fit in better with the Decepticons?"

The Prime shook his helm. "No. Megatron has always hated rogues and kills them on sight. She's safer here."

The femme scoffed. "At least the Cons would have accessible parts for me to fix my ship."

Ratchet dared fully turning around from the three downed warriors. "What kind of parts do you need? I'm eager to get you out of here."

"More than what you have, grandbot."

The medic huffed, but he didn't have any remarks to say out loud.

"Wait," Fowler interjected. "Are you seriously a rogue named Rogue?"

Rogue turned her helm to him. "I don't remember my real name, if I was given one at all. Besides, it's what everybot calls me, so I think it fits."

He slowly nodded.

She locked optics with the Prime. "I need to have free-roam privileges from this base if I'm to fix my ship. And I know you know that. I also know you're not going to let me out unescorted. I'm also sure you're aware that if I never get my ship fixed, I'll be staying here with you bots for a long time."

Ratchet pivoted again. "Optimus, please."

Agent Fowler looked between the three sentient robots. "Optimus, no. I can't have this," he looked Rogue up and down, "this malicious female roaming around and potentially killing my species simply because she feels like it."

The Prime kept his gaze with Rogue's. "We shall see," was his answer before he approached the data center and began typing on keys.

Rogue frowned. Well, that didn't go according to plan. She pushed herself off the wall and began to leave when the computer screens lit up with red alerts.

Ratchet rushed next to his leader's side. "The Decepticons are moving Energon." His tone grew grave. "Optimus, we desperately need that Energon."

The red and blue mech studied the screen before him for several nanocycles. "Ratchet, I need you to stay here to care for Bumblebee, Bulkhead, and Arcee. Agent Fowler, tell your soldiers to steer clear of that area." He turned to the femme.

Rogue slightly perked up.

"I will allow you to accompany me on this mission. Two bots are better than one when facing a Decepticon mining operation."

Ratchet placed a hand on the Prime's arm. "You can't be serious. We have no idea if she'll betray you or not."

Optimus gave a nod. "I know." He returned his attention to the gray femme. "If you help me acquire energon for my Autobots, I will allow to take anything from the Decepticon mine."

One of her metal brows lifted again. "Anything?"

Another nod.

She strode over, glaring at the medic. "And if I wanted to betray him, I would've done it already. I don't take kindly to wasting time."

Ratchet somewhat straightened. Again, he said nothing.

Optimus opened up a ground bridge.

Rogue gave the Autobot leader a nod and followed him through the gateway.


End file.
